


When We Were Young - Season 3

by SpainKicks



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Football, Football | Soccer, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:38:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4493937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpainKicks/pseuds/SpainKicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 3 of the "When We Were Young" series a highschool/football AU with multiple pairings.<br/>This is the season where things get really fun, the shit hits the fan and a lot of secrets are revealed.<br/>Enjoy x</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this season, I plan on introducing in some new characters (as if there aren’t enough already) and exploring more of Pique’s past and his family. The first two seasons were centred mainly on Thierry/Bojan and the Davids, but they’re quite settled now and deserve some happiness before they get thrown back into the drama again.

With a squeak of surprise, Silva stumbled into the space behind the stairwell, finding himself pressed against another warm body.

“I’ve missed you,” Villa purred hotly in his ear and he smiled without thinking.

Twisting his arms around the other boy’s neck, he leant back to get a good look at him. “I missed you too.”

Their mouths met, hot and hungry as always. They were panting when they broke away five minutes later. It had been less than two weeks since they had both went to visit family, but the cost of a phone call between Gran Canaria and Asturias, combined with Silva only having restricted internet access, had meant it felt like much longer.

“I’ve been looking for you since I got here,” Villa panted, hands roving over the smaller body, wondering if anything about him had changed in the past week or so.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Silva laughed. “This place is too big.”

Villa kissed him briefly. “Yeah, I know.”

“I’m surprised Pique hasn’t kicked us out yet.” Silva gave him a little sideways smile.

“It’s New Year’s Eve,” Villa said. “He just wants a party tonight, no trouble.”

Silva nodded, leaning his head to his boyfriend’s shoulder. He still smelt the same.

“So, who are you going to kiss at midnight?” Villa asked, hands gliding lower.

Giggling shyly, Silva pressed closer, cheeks starting to burn.

“Or we could do something else at midnight,” Villa suggested. He looked at his watch. “We don’t have long.”

He felt Silva nod against him.

“Come on then. Let’s go find a room.”

With a cursory glance around the spacious entrance hall, Villa judged the coast was clear and pulled a still blushing Silva from their hidey-hole. Grinning, they dashed up the stairs, trying to find a spare room in Pique’s house, letting the sounds of the party fade behind them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two members of the party had already found a room, though there were many to choose from. Pique’s house was bordering on a mansion as far as most of them were concerned and even he seemed to forget what half the rooms were for or where they were.

A groan filled the room, a meticulously tidy guest room, complete with en suite, that nobody ever used unless it was at one of Pique’s parties.

There was a body spread across the bed, shirt wide open to reveal sweaty, heaving skin. His legs were over the edge of the bed, feet still on the ground, pants around his ankles and between them knelt another boy, head bobbing expertly.

“Oh God, Sergio,” he groaned, one hand gripping the bed sheets every now and then.

Sergio’s eyes flicked up to him, mouth never releasing his cock. He couldn’t see the blonde’s face, just the rise and fall of his shiny stomach and chest.

Finally he pulled his mouth off with a wet sound, and nipped at his thigh, watching how it twitched.

“You didn’t visit before Christmas like you said you would,” he said quietly.

“Oh God, I know,” the body panted. He pulled himself up on weak elbows. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Smiling through bruised lips, Sergio guided his cock back to his mouth, flicking his tongue over the head. With another groan at he was readmitted to the warm haven of his lover’s mouth, he collapsed back on the bed.

From somewhere seemingly far away, he heard a door open and a little breeze seemed to chill over his skin.

He heard his name from familiar lips, making his eyes open without a thought.

“Guti.”

From his position, he saw his boyfriend upside down and managed to gasp out only one word.

“Raul.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Silva felt his body cool from it’s previous heat, letting himself relax enough to accept Villa’s two fingers inside him. They had been lying together for so long already, mouths refusing to leave each other, quickly ridding each other of their clothes.

There had been a few moments of quiet then, before they returned to each other feverishly. Villa had sat back on his knees, fingertips gently holding Silva down by the hips. He licked his lips as his eyes slowly drank in the sight of his lover, shifting nervously beneath him.

“Villa,” he had whined nervously, snapping Villa out of his trance. He returned to him with a smile and they pressed together.

Silva laughed a little through his sigh, wriggling against the fingers inside him.

“You like that?” Villa asked, smiling as well, their faces close together.

“It feels good,” Silva smiled, lifting his head for another little kiss.

“More?”

Silva nodded. He held onto Villa’s shoulders as he rolled his fingers inside him, still amazed by the tightness but finding a rhythm.

“I’m ready,” Silva gasped, pressing his nose to the other boy’s cheek.

“You sure?”

He wasn’t, but he couldn’t hold on any longer. He had been waiting too long already, thinking of little else the whole time he was away.

He nodded and spread his legs a little wider.

Villa sat back again, watching Silva’s exposed body shiver on the bed as he rolled on a condom. Silva gave a little whimper at the wet sound of the lubricant and reached for Villa when he lowered himself again.

Guiding himself in, Villa bit his lip. He pushed firmly against his partner’s entrance. Silva gasped when he suddenly slipped in.

Villa shuddered a little and tried to ease himself in. Like the last time, Silva whined, screwing his eyes shut, but it wasn’t long before they fluttered back open and his shoulders relaxed. He grunted with each slow, gentle thrust, resisting the aching pain inside him. It wasn’t as bad as last time, although it did still feel quite strange.

Gently, Villa cupped his face, their faces close, gasping together.

“Is that ok?” he asked.

Silva nodded instantly and tightened his grip around the other boy’s neck. His eyes only closed again as their bodies found a rhythm, moving together easily. Villa was losing control again, thrusting more roughly into his tightness but the friction on his cock, trapped between them, was enough to let Silva continue. He gasped as pleasure flooded through him, the only distraction was the continual force of Villa inside him, not quite finding the right spot. It ached like he was pressing on a bruise.

And yet still it felt good. He shuddered, legs trembling as he suddenly came, the flexing of his muscles pushing Villa the same way.

They fell apart, panting for breath, Silva leaning his head in towards Villa.

It was a few minutes before he dared to move his body, pleasantly surprised by the lack of pain as he shakily stood and crawled under the covers. Villa followed suit, curling his now cooling body in behind him. Sleepily, he made himself comfortable, his arm wrapped over his lover’s waist and Silva’s hand finding his gently.

He glanced up at the clock on the bedside table and gave him a little nudge with his knee.

“Hey, happy NewYear.”

Silva blinked through tired eyes up at the clock. It was less than ten minutes into the new year. He smiled.

“Best start to a new year ever.”

Villa nuzzled against the back of his hair and he could feel him smile.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cesc walked into the entrance hall of the house as part of a large group. They were passing through en masse, to get to the kitchen, where the rest of the beer was. After the initial high of the clock striking midnight, everyone had downed whatever they had in hand and only just realised the room was dry. So, all together, they had seemed to head towards the kitchen.

He paused, glancing up as the front door opened. Pique split form the group, who didn’t seem to have noticed, instantly.

Alexis and Bojan paused by their friend.

“Is that his mum?” Bojan asked, seeing the woman come through the door, a wide grin on her face and a suitcase by her side.

“Yeah,” said Cesc. “I thought she was out of town or something.”

“Gerard,” she smiled widely, not seeming to notice that her house was overrun with teens and young adults.

“You just got back?” Pique glanced over his shoulder, not really interested in letting the whole room in on his conversation. Luckily, most seemed to have nothing more on their minds than alcohol. Cristiano however, had chosen to stop, standing close by his friend and giving his mother a winning smile.

“Well, you know how it is, trying to get a flight on New Year’s Ever.” She swept her arm in a wide gesture, laughing at her own foolish choice of travel days. “Oh, but darling, I have someone to introduce you to.”

She turned, tottering towards the door in her heels and reaching for someone who had evidently been waiting for her to welcome them in.

“Well, not introduce really,” she laughed again, “because you already know him. But I’m sure you’ll be happy to see him.”

She pulled a man in by the arm, soon encircling his waist and leaning on him once he was inside. She leant her head against his chest. He was very tall, taller even than Pique, but much more solidly built.

Cesc stared in disbelief, his eyes darting between the man and Gerard, whose shoulders had tensed. His throat suddenly dried.

Oblivious to the two boys staring at him, Pique’s mother looked up at the man with an almost girlish grin.

“You remember Roberto, don’t you?”

Pique didn’t say a word, just stared at him, feeling the cool prickle down the back of his neck and the tremor of his heart beating with rapid excitement.

“Who’s that?” Bojan whispered, leaning in towards Cesc so no one else could hear.

The other boy’s answer was equally quiet. “He was his step father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on holiday tomorrow so instead of being mean and making you wait two weeks I'm going to post all of season 3 now.  
> Enjoy and I'm looking forward to reading what you thought about it when I get back.  
> xoxo


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This season is going to be darker and have more serious themes than the first two.  
> Trigger Warning for sexual abuse, jsyk  
> Also, Roberto is not a footballer. I just picked a generic Spanish sounding name

Guti pulled himself onto his elbows again, watching as Raul stalked around the bed and pushed his hand into Sergio’s hair. The younger boy still had his eyes closed, head bobbing between Guti’s thighs. Raul pulled him up firmly until he was standing. His mouth hung open, slack and wet.

Roughly, he pushed him to the bed, crawling up behind him. Guti scrambled clumsily into position, kicking his pants off as he did so. With his back against the headboard, he guided Sergio’s head back down. He felt him moan as much as heard it when Raul forced one finger inside him.

His whole body rocked back and forth, on and off each man. It wasn’t long before his hair was stuck damply to his face, his breath coming in rough gasps. Raul’s eyes were burning into his back as he held his hips, fingers digging in while he continued to slam in and out of him.

Guti was the first to cum, Sergio swallowing him down before pulling back. He held himself up on shaky arms, panting hard with each snap of Raul’s hips against him. Sinking down i relaxation, Guti’s eyes fell shut. After a few moments, in which Sergio’s moans became more like whimpers, he collapsed down on the blonde, laying his head on his chest.

Stroking absently at his hair, Guti left his legs splayed wide, accepting Sergio between them. Caught between the two lovers, Sergio was the next to cum, leaving a mark on the bed, somewhere between Guti’s legs.

Raul continued to pound into his shuddering body for a few minutes more, ignoring any further whimpers. He reached for Guti’s mouth as he came, kissing him gently.

With his hand flat on Sergio’s back, he pushed himself up, stripping off the condom and collapsing to the side of the other boys. Guti’s hand found his hand easily and they lay together silently for a few long minutes.

Eventually, Raul heaved up his pants and moved off the bed long enough to lift the covers and crawl back in, back to the others. Guti followed suit, helping the sleepy Sergio off him and cuddling up behind Raul. He nuzzled the hair at the top of his neck, knowing it would tickle. Raul wriggled against his touch.

Lazily, Sergio stumbled in behind Guti, pressing against him a little but not daring to wrap his arm over him.

“Sorry we started without you,” Guti yawned.

Raul didn’t answer, his body already too heavy with sleep to speak.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“What’s he doing here?” Pique hissed.

His mother didn’t look away from her ex. “Well, while I was in Sevilla we just ran into each other at a party,” She grinned up at him, “And we just hit it off again.”

Pique stared at them until they managed to take their eyes off each other.

“You don’t mind him being around, do you?” she asked, though it didn’t sound like she really wanted an answer. “You used to get on so well and you seemed so upset when he left.”

“You missed me, Geri?”Roberto spoke for the first time. “I missed you too.”

Pique’s expression soured.

“Anyway, we’ll get out of your way,” his mum continued. “We’re exhausted.” She took Roberto’s hand and began guiding him to the stairs, leaving Pique in the entrance hall.

“See you in the morning, sweetie,” she called over her shoulder, Roberto following her gaze to give his ex-son a smile before disappearing out of sight.

Cesc shuffled off with his friends, but he couldn’t help but keep an eye on Pique for as long as possible. As soon as they were in the crowded kitchen, he detached himself from the others and weaved through the crowd until he found his old friend, leaning against the wall with a bottle in his hand.

“Gerard, are you ok?”

Pique looked up. It seemed to take him a second to focus. “I’m fine,” he mumbled.

He tried to move away but Cesc followed him nervously.

“Are you sure? It must have been a shock to see him again. I know we’re not really friends anymore, but if you need to talk to someone...”

“It’s fine,” Pique repeated. “I can handle it.”

He pushed himself off the wall, stalking out of the room too quickly for Cesc to follow. Nobody saw him for the rest of the night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning was a bright one – Too bright for Pique’s sore, morning after eyes. It was late morning by the time he left his room, unlocking the door and creeping downstairs for something non-alcoholic to drink. There didn’t seem to be signs of anyone else up and about, so he picked through the debris of the party and headed towards his room again.

“Pique?”

He stopped dead at the sound of the voice, slowly turning in it’s direction. A door stood half open and he knew who was inside, but he crept closer anyway.

As he approached, he could see Roberto, leaning on a desk. He was just hanging up the phone.

“Good morning,” he smiled.

Pique snorted, beginning to turn away even before he was properly through the door.

“Wait.” Roberto called him back. “I want to talk.”

Pique face him again, daring to stand on the threshold of the room. He felt the man’s eyes look him up and down and he found himself wishing he had gotten dressed before venturing downstairs. He would feel so much more comfortable wearing something more than just a t-shirt and boxer shorts.

“I know this must be a shock to you. It is to us.”

Pique folded his arms. “You can’t just walk back in here like it’s three years ago and expect me to be the same.”

“Oh, I know you’re not the same.” Roberto pushed himself off the desk, stepping closer. “You’ve grown for one thing.”

Pique didn’t return his smile.

“You’re more like a man now.”

The teen swallowed, feeling the gap close between them. He leant back, not wanting to get too close but still wanting to stand his ground.

“I’m glad I met your mother again.”

“I’m sure you are. She has a lot of money.”

Roberto gave a little laugh. “I forgot how feisty you were. Although you used to be a lot more willing to please.”

Pique’s eyes, up until then giving the man a defiant stare, flicked away. “I was a kid.”

“Geri.” Roberto said his name softly, making him look up. He stroked his fingertips over the boy’s cheek. “You were never a kid. There was never anyone to look after you. You had to grow up fast.”

His mouth pulled down at the corners, Pique felt his heart give a little shudder.

Roberto stepped forward again, his eyes hooded as he looked down just a little at his ex-stepson. Pique couldn’t help but take a moment to look at how he had changed. He was older certainly, his face having lost the youthfulness it once had but essentially it was all the same. Even his aftershave seemed familiar.

“Why did you get so cold?” he asked quietly.  
Pique opened his mouth but it was a few moments before any sound came out.

“I was just a kid,” he whispered, scared to raise his voice. “You were older than me. It was wrong.”

Their lips almost brushed together, making Pique feel dizzy.

“Eleven years isn’t that much,” Roberto purred. The hand which had been on Pique’s cheek, moved now, it’s fingers twisting into the hair at the back of his neck and tilting his head back. He gave a little gasp, hands coming up to brace himself against Roberto’s chest.

“You never used to think it was wrong,” he whispered again. “You used to love it. Don’t you remember how good it felt?”

He kissed the corner of his mouth, enough to make him shiver, before continuing.

“Do you ever think about me, Geri?”

He saw the boy’s eyes screw shut, his breath coming fast.

“I think about you all the time. I still want you.”

Pique’s mouth fell open to whimper, and a second later, Roberto’s mouth was on his own, as he pushed him up against the door, making it click quietly shut.


	3. Chapter 3

Pique let his mouth be hungrily assaulted for a few moments before he reacted, pushing Roberto back so that he wasn’t trapped against the door. But he didn’t break the contact, instead moving with him, biting at his bottom lip and roughly tugging his shirt.

With a moan, Roberto helped him out of his clothes, before they set to work on his own. It was only a few shorts moments before he had Pique on the floor of the office. Their hot bodies rubbed closely together, stifled moans coming between them. There was a smirk on Roberto’s face the whole time as Pique glared up at him, silently daring him to do his worst.

The man barely broke their contact to reach for his discarded jeans and pull out a condom. Pique pulled him down, kissing him roughly. He gave him time to slip it on before suddenly flipping them. Roberto hit the ground with a grunt, Pique already straddling his waist.

Grinding his hips, he watched as his old lover sighed in pleasure. He wasn’t a little boy anymore, he had slept with plenty of people and he knew what he was doing. And he was determined to prove that.

Roberto reached down, holding cock steady and letting Pique push back on it. The pre-lubricated condom helped, as did Pique’s determination to not show any pain, but it was still slow going. The man smirked, seeing how tightly Pique’s toes were curled as he forced himself down.

With a long groan he managed to push him far enough in to start rocking his hips gently. Both of Roberto’s hands lay on his hips, helping him up and down, increasing the pace until he was gasping and wincing with each movement.

He yelped when Roberto clearly got bored and rolled them over again, pinning the boy to the floor. Pique pushed against him but his legs still fell wide. Each thrust felt like it burned inside him and it was all he could to control the whimpers threatening to break free. With eyes tightly shut, he braced himself, turning his head to the side, because despite his size now, he still felt overwhelmed by the larger man.

Roberto reached between them, jerking him hard and rough, forcing an orgasm out of him. Pique’s body arched up, surrendering to him totally for those last few seconds before he came wetly into his arm. He heard the change in Roberto’s groans, his breath hot across his face, and he knew he had cum too.

Before he pulled out, he pressed a kiss to Gerard’s downturned mouth, ignoring the sudden tension in his body. He rolled off him with a throaty little laugh.

No sooner was he free then Pique was getting up, masking the pain he felt between his legs so the man didn’t know how much he had hurt him.

“Where are you going?” Roberto asked, a little laughter still in his tone as pique clumsily pulled his flimsy clothes back on.

“Leave me alone,” Pique hissed. “Just stay away from me.”

Roberto opened his mouth to answer, but Pique was already slamming the door and racing back to his room.

He slammed his bedroom door behind him as well, turning the lock before sliding down against it. His breath was coming in heavy gasps and he could feel the tears pricking the back of his eyes. It had been years since he had cried about anything, but right then he didn’t know what else to do. So, pulling his knees up to his chest and laying his head on them, he cried scared, angry, shameful tears, until he had nothing left.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I think you should have a party for you birthday.”

Villa lay back on his bed, pulling his jeans back up.

Silva wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and looked at him quizzically.

“A party? No one would come.”

“Come here.” Villa grabbed his arm and tugged him down on the bed. He looked at him through sleepy eyes. “I knew you would say that. People would come.”

Silva shook his head but curled up against his boyfriend. “My parents wouldn’t let me. Especially not at such short notice.”

“But you’re only eighteen once.” Villa kissed his swollen red mouth. “Besides, we kind of have a plan.”

“We? What plan?”

Turning on his side, so they were facing each other, Villa tried to look innocent. “Well, next weekend Cristiano said he might have a party and he and Sergio said that it should be your birthday party, but we’d be the only ones to know about it. Cause it would be weird if they threw you a party since everyone still thinks they don’t like you.”

Silva blinked. “They would do that for me?”

“Of course.” Villa reached down to his ass, getting a good grip and pulling him close so they could kiss again. Silva gave a little squeak. He was finding it could take a while to recover from sex, even if it had been hours. Luckily, Villa seemed just as happy to do other things rather than push him.

He cuddled in against his boyfriend. “They just want a party, don’t they?”

“When have they ever needed an excuse before? I think they’re really starting to like you.”

Silva grinned widely, burying his face against his boyfriend’s chest.

“Ok,” he agreed. “It can be my secret birthday party.”

Villa squeezed him tight. “Good. I’ll call the others later and tell them the good news.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was quite a few hours before Pique had the guts to go back downstairs. He knew he would have to sometime, not least of all because he was starving, but he tries to wait until he thought Roberto might have gone out. And even then he made his way down to the kitchen very quietly.

“Darling,” his mouth called when he barely had one foot in the room. He looked up and away quickly as he saw Roberto beside her.

“About time you got up,” she laughed. “Listen, sweetie, we have something to tell you.”

His heart began to race. They couldn’t be getting remarried. They had only been together a few weeks at most.

“Now, we know,” she said, pottering around the kitchen and making herself some coffee, “that this has all been rather sudden for you, but we have one more little surprise.”

Oh God, he thought, please don’t be pregnant. He kept his eyes on the floor.

“The thing is, Roberto got remarried while we were apart.” She gave him a playfully reprimanding look. “And well, his wife is in rehab – alcohol problems – so his step-son will be coming to stay with us for a while.”

Pique looked up, eyes wide in horror, but Roberto just leant against the counter, sipping his coffee and throwing him a friendly smile.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, birthday boy!”

Silva jumped as two long arms wrapped around him and squeezed him tight.

“Hi, Alexis.”

The other boy released him, moving to lean on the locker next to him. “So, what does eighteen feel like?”

Silva grinned. “Kind of like seventeen. You’ll see yourself in about eight months.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with August birthdays,” said Bojan, appearing on his other side. “At least it won’t be cold like it is now.”

Alexis shot him a smile. “And I’m not the youngest anymore.”

Bojan rolled his eyes but said nothing. He was used to being the youngest of his friends. Besides, it didn’t seem to bother Thierry.

Just as he thought of the man in question, he saw him at the far end of the corridor.

“Hey, guys, there’s something I have to do. I’ll see you later ok?”

The others looked up, just as Cesc came to join them, but Bojan was already rushing away, calling ‘Happy birthday’ as he went.

Across the hallway, Villa leant back against his locker, watching the small group of boys, exchanging greetings and birthday wishes.

“What’s up?” Sergio asked, coming to stand beside him, taking in his frown and crossed arms.

“Nothing,” said Villa. “Just wish I could actually talk to my boyfriend in public.”

His expression darkened further when Alexis slung his arm over Silva’s shoulders, with the casual familiarity that came through years of friendship.

Sergio shrugged and turned to open his locker. “Then maybe it’s time you told everyone the truth.”

Tightening his jaw, Villa watched Alexis lean down to whisper something in Silva’s ear and his boyfriend giggle in reply.

“Yeah, maybe it is.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There was a polite, almost silent knock at Thierry’s door, making him look up. He smiled in surprise when Bojan stuck his head around the door.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Thierry rose quickly, crossing over to greet him and closing the door. He now permanently kept the blind pulled down to cover the little window in the door, for just such a situation.

“I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve seen you.” Bojan reached up to stroke his fingers over the teacher’s face, eyes full of wonder.

Thierry pulled him close, kissing him with rough excitement, hands tangled in his hair and shirt.

With a little moan, Bojan pulled back panting.

“It was a long Christmas,” said Thierry, who had been caught up with visiting family for the past few weeks. “But I’m free now. You could come over tonight.”

Bojan squeaked with delight, rising up on tiptoes and pulling Thierry’s mouth back down to him. It was a few minutes before he let his lover go again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Thierry grinned, making Bojan giggle.

Just then, their alone time was rudely interrupted by the harsh sound of the bell.

The teen sighed, his chest rising and falling against Thierry’s body.

“I should go.”

“I’ll pick you up after school.” Thierry kissed his cheek briefly. “Wait around the corner.”

Bojan nodded, opening the door again and throwing him a cheeky wink.

“Don’t worry. I know the drill. See you later.”

Thierry watched him go before rubbing his hands over his face, grinning widely. That boy would be the death of him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Since Roberto had arrived, Pique had spent most of his time in his room or finding excuses to be somewhere else. He had spent a night at Sergio’s, one out clubbing until the early hours when he could sneak back in unnoticed, and the rest only venturing down for food when it seemed like there was no one around. He had even been happy to go back to school so he could be out of the house during the day.

Over the past day and a half he had found some reprieve when Roberto had flown back to Sevilla to pick up his new step-son. In fact, Pique had hoped that something would happen so that they decided never to come back to Barcelona and he could forget ever seeing the man again.

But of course, he would never be that lucky.

His mother, in one of her rare moments of authority, had all but ordered him to come and greet the new boy who would be living with them. The call had come when he was barely home from school that they had already landed at the airport and would be there in no time. He managed to get something to eat in relative peace, before going to sit on the staircase and wait to see what happened.

Part of him, he had to admit, was curious to see who this new kid was. He had tuned out when he had been told about him a few days ago. All he really knew was his name, that he was fifteen and that he had no real family, apart from his now absent mother.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, he hoped. After all, he had no proof that Roberto had done anything to anyone but him. Maybe he had been telling the truth all this time, that Pique was the only one – That there had been something special about him. Even if there had been other, this boy might not be one of them.

His foot tapped with agitation, his mouth twisted into a frown.

He tensed when he saw the door handle turn, his mother scampering across the hallway excitedly.

“They’re here,” she called. “Gerard, come and say hello.”

He got up reluctantly, watching as Roberto entered, dumping his suitcase on the floor and hugging Pique’s mum, kissing both her cheeks.

“Did you have a good flight?” she asked.

Pique took a few steps down the staircase, ignoring their conversation. He had spotted a small figure moving around behind Roberto.

Seeing where he was looking, Roberto moved aside, reaching out for the little figure and pulling him inside.

The kid was short, especially next to Roberto, and his bright blue eyes flicked back and forth nervously but never looked up from the ground. He was definitely pretty, from what Pique could see when he did eventually look at him for half a second.

He watched him closely, seeing how Roberto kept his arm around his shoulders and the boy leant into him, looking for safety. Pique felt his heart fall at the sight of them.

“Gerard,” Roberto said, in his most friendly tone. “This is Jesus. Make him feel at home, won’t you?”


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you unpacked?” Roberto asked, making himself comfortable on the double bed.

Jesus wrung his hands together, pulling his sleeves over them. “Mostly.”

“You like your room?”

They had chosen the one next to Pique’s. It wasn’t the biggest but it did have an en suite and adequate space for all the teenager’s possessions.

“It’s nice.” He sat on the bed by his step father, a little distance between them.

“You look tired.” Roberto reached for him, pulling him close. The boy was dwarfed by his size. “You had a long day.”

Jesus nodded, burying his face against the man’s chest. His breathing became fitful, his shoulders trembling with quiet sobs.

“Shh,” Roberto soothed, rocking him. “You be strong. You can do this.”

A wet sniffle sounded from near his chest. “Promise?”

“I promise.” He lifted his chin with one crooked finger. “I’ll be here for you.”

“Thank you,” Jesus whimpered, reaching up for him with needy little hands and pulling him down until their mouths met. He snuggled into the warm embrace, sighing with contentment when the kiss broke.

Roberto’s hands roved his back, over the sharp line of his spine and down towards his ass, but he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Jesus pulled back quickly, folding his hands in his lap and looking down.

Pique’s mother ducked her head around the door a few seconds later.

“All unpacked?” she smiled.

Jesus didn’t move, letting Roberto answer for him.

“He’s tired now,” he told his partner, approaching the door. “We should let him sleep.”

The boy looked up, his eyes desperate.

Roberto managed to shoo his ex-wife away just long enough to turn back to the boy and kiss him hurriedly.

“You’re not staying tonight?” Jesus asked in quiet panic.

“I can’t, not tonight. But as soon as I can, I will. You know I want to be with you more than anyone, right baby?”  
He tickled his hands above the boy’s waistband, making him giggle slightly and squirm away.

“Ok,” he said quietly, letting the man kiss him one last time before turning for the door.

He turned back to the bed as soon as he was alone, and crawled into it, to let his tired limbs finally rest.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“So, what’s the little brother like?”

“He’s not my little brother.”

Sergio frowned in surprise at his friend’s sharp tone. “Ok, ok. I was just asking. Is he fuckable?”

Pique pushed his food around his plate with his fork. “He’s fifteen.”

“And like we weren’t having sex when we were fifteen.”

The other boy quirked his eyebrows. “Fair point.”

“So, is he?” Cristiano asked, getting in on the conversation.

“I guess,” Pique replied, giving up on the horrible school food. “He’s pretty, but I haven’t seen much of him. He doesn’t come out of his room very often.”

He wouldn’t say anything to his friends, but he hadn’t been out of his room much either since Roberto came back. And he was glad to have not heard any suspicious sounds through their adjoining wall.

“He’s really nervous about everything. My mum said something about him having panic attacks, but I haven’t seen him have one yet. He always looks like he’s scared someone is going to notice him though. You’ll see for yourself soon. He’s meant to start school here once he’s settled.”

The grin on Sergio’s face widened. It would be interesting to have a new face to have some fun with, especially if this kid really was pretty like Pique had said.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Silva’s secret birthday party, was held on Saturday night and the turn-out was impressive, with Villa arriving early to help set things up. As soon as the guests started pouring in, he found himself a space close enough to the front door where he wouldn’t the arrival of the secret guest of honour. As soon as he spotted him, he nudged Cristiano and whispered something in his ear, before slipping away before he could be spotted.

It took half an hour for Silva to slip away from the ever watchful eye of Alexis, and as soon as he did, he ran into Cristiano, who looked like he had been waiting for him.

“Come upstairs,” the boy said, as soon as they were out of earshot of everyone else.

Silva blinked up in surprise. “What?”

“Come upstairs,” he repeated, taking his hand. “We have a surprise for you.”

Out of nowhere, Sergio seemed to appear on his other side. He ruffled his hair quickly before slipping past.

“Wait,” he told Cristiano. “Just give me a minute.”

The two boys were left at the bottom of the stairs.

“What’s going on?”

“You’ll see,” Cristiano smiled, glancing around to make sure they were still alone.

A few moments later, Sergio was practically bouncing back down the stairs towards them. He grabbed Silva without a word and began pulling him up the stairs.

The Canarian couldn’t help but smile, hoping that this would be a nice surprise, and maybe that it would involve Villa, who didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.

At the top of the staircase they stopped again, Sergio pulling what seemed to be a tie from his pocket and wrapping it around Silva’s head as a makeshift blindfold.

He giggled as Cristiano held him steady and Sergio tied the knot.

“What’s going on?”

“You’ll see.” The smile was evident in Cristiano’s tone as he led him forward.

He heard a door open before being ushered through, and when it closed and locked behind him he started to feel his heart race. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure he liked not being able to see. To his relief, he felt fingers fumbling at the knot, and soon the blindfold fell from his eyes, revealing the room.

“SURPRISE!” three voices chorused and his mouth gaped open. The only light in the room came from the flickering glow of eighteen candles, decorating the cake that Villa held out in front of him.

Above the bed he could see a banner reading ‘Happy Birthday,’ and dotted around the room there were even a few balloons. He grinned at the sight of a collection of party hats on the bedside table.

“Make a wish,” Cristiano encouraged, nudging him forward.

He smiled at his boyfriend, still holding out the cake and took a deep breath. The others cheered, calling out happy birthday as he blew out the candles.

Cristiano flipped the lights on as soon as he was done, making them all squint a little.

“Happy birthday, baby,” said Villa, putting the cake down and pulling him forward for a kiss. “I told you this would be your party.”

“Thank you,” said Silva, unable to stop grinning. He pressed his face to Villa’s neck, cuddling him tightly.

“Ok, that’s enough of the lovey dovey crap,” Sergio announced loudly, jumping onto the bed and sitting cross legged. “Let’s eat some of this cake.”

Silva untangled himself from his boyfriend and clambered onto the bed, making himself comfortable and letting the others deal with handing out plates.

It was an hour before any of them realised how long they had been in the room, talking and demolishing the birthday cake.

Sergio licked the last of the chocolate from his fingers rather pornographically.

“I can’t believe I’m the youngest one here,” he grumbled, shaking his head.

Cristiano laughed, lounging beside him. “I can’t believe Silvi and Villa are adults and we’re technically still children.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Sergio, narrowing his eyes and cutting a very comical image in his wonky party hat.

Villa was leaning back against the headboard, Silva tucked comfortably under one arm. “You’ll never be a grown up,” he told his friend, who simply stuck his tongue out in reply.

The others laughed, all relaxed after the cake and beer. Silva wriggled slightly against Villa’s body.

“Well,” said the eldest boy, stretching a little. “I think it’s time you two left.” He threw them a wink before grinning down at Silva. “We have important adult things to be doing.”

With a blush and a giggle, Silva pressed even closer before kissing his boyfriend.

The cat calls from the other side of the bed did nothing to stop him, although he did blush a little more. Villa groaned a little into his mouth and the bed moved as the others got up.

“Fine,” Sergio joked. “We know when we’re not wanted. You two grown-ups have your fun.”

Villa didn’t look away from Silva’s eyes. “Oh, we will.”

Silva closed the gap again and kissed him hungrily, ignoring the other two boys as they left the room with more shouts of encouragement and advice.


	6. Chapter 6

Silva lifted up on his knees, his breath coming hot and heavy. Villa had moved him into position on all fours, saying something about how he had heard it would hurt less, and pushed inside him quite easily. Silva wasn’t sure if it was the position that made it hurt less or just the fact he was getting used to it.

Together they knelt on the bed, one behind the other, hips rolling in a comfortable rhythm with one another. Villa reached his hands around his lover’s torso, holding him close, one around his waist, the other crossing over his chest.

Silva’s shaky grip fell on his hip, feeling him roll in and out of his body. His other hand tangled with Villa’s on his chest. As they went on, his head arched back, leaving his neck exposed for the other boy to lick and kiss and bite at his leisure. Villa took full advantage.

He could see that Silva was enjoying himself, almost ready to cum as he pushed further back. He waited until he found the perfect angle, their moans mingling in the air, regardless of who might be listening outside.

Reaching down, he found Silva’s so far neglected cock, so desperate to be touched that it almost hurt. Carefully, he ran two fingers along its underside, dragging them slowly as Silva shuddered at his touch. He clenched tightly, as Villa knew he would and the Asturian pushed up firmly into him. He felt the liquid run over his fingers as Silva came. It only took a few quick rolls of his hips for him to follow.

Panting, the curled up together, legs loosely over each other as they tried to cool down.

Villa watched as Silva’s eyes fell shut and his breathing became more rhythmic.

“Are you asleep?” he asked eventually.

“Mmm,” was his only answer. There was a contented smile on his boyfriend’s face.

“Hey, sweetie,” he said keeping his tone light and shuffling closer. “We’re serious about each other now, aren’t we? I mean, we’re sleeping together and everything.”

Silva’s grin widened though his eyes remained shut. “You noticed that, did you?”

Villa smiled as well, kissing him briefly. “Well, I thought that, since we’re serious, maybe it’s the right time to start telling people about us.”

“Huh?” Silva’s eyes finally opened, but he didn’t seem to be smiling anymore. “Why?” he asked, sleepily.

“Because we can’t keep this secret forever.” His hand ran over the soft skin of Silva’s hip, feeling its warm, how solid and real it was. “I don’t want us to always be sneaking around.”

Silva was quiet for a long moment. “I’m not sure,” he finally admitted.

“Why not? You’re not ashamed of me, are you?”

“No, of course not.” Although he said it with little enthusiasm. “I’m just not sure how people will react.”

“They’ll get used to it.” Villa pulled him closer, knowing that the best way to get around his defences was with affection. “Cristiano and Sergio have been great about it. You get on with them really well now.”

He saw a smile on Silva’s face again.

“Yeah, I do and that’s really been a surprise, but my friends are different.”

“How?”

“Well, you lot haven’t exactly been nice to them. They have no reason to be ok with this.”

Combing his fingers through Silva’s hair, Villa nodded. “I know, you’re right, but they could come around.”

“And it’s not just them,” Silva muttered, his face downturned now. “Everyone at school will find out and they’ll be looking at us all the time. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

“You’re so cute when you’re shy.” Villa pressed his nose to Silva’s cheek. “They’ll get over, don’t worry. And I won’t let anyone say anything to you.”

“I know,” Silva whispered. “Just let me think about it ok. I need to work out how to tell them without them being mad at me.”

He cuddled against Villa’s chest, closing his eyes again and letting him know there would be no more discussion on this subject. At least not for tonight.

“Ok, baby,” Villa said, holding in a little sigh. He wasn’t sure he was any closer to people finding out than he had been before. Although if he couldn’t outright tell them, there were still other ways of pushing the issue.

He reached out to push Silva’s hair back, and smiled at the red marks already adorning his neck.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He wasn’t sure why he had even come to the party, but Cesc had found himself there anyway. Silva seemed quite insistent on showing up, which was very odd since Cesc hadn’t seen him since they first arrived, and the others hadn’t put up any arguments. Personally he wasn’t all that in the mood after a busy first week back at school, but deep down he harboured hopes of seeing Pique, or maybe being able to tell how well he was coping. Of course, he hadn’t expected them to actually talk to each other.

“Can I see you outside?”

It was a formal sounding request, but Pique’s hand around his arm was gentle. Still, Cesc stared at him in surprise for a few seconds.

“Erm, yeah, sure.”

He followed him out in silence. It was still too cold for the party to move outside, so they found themselves alone on the front porch, but Pique didn’t stop moving. Hands in his pockets, he walked slowly across the garden and out the gate. Cesc trailed along at his side, throwing him little glances every now and then.

“Where are we going?” he eventually asked.

Pique remained stony faced, looking at the path ahead. Eventually he spoke.

“You know about Roberto.”

Cesc’s stomach tightened. He had known this would be their topic of conversation, but it still made him feel nervous.

“Yeah.”

“He’s back. For good I think. Or for as long as any of her boyfriends stay around.”

They had reached the end of the street, Pique turning left and Cesc following. He didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t have anyone else to talk to about this,” Pique continued. “Nobody else knows, unless you told someone.”

He turned to glare at his old friend, who cowered.

“I swear I’ve never told anyone. You asked me not to, and I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.”

Pique sighed almost silently. “Me either.”

Cesc continued to follow as he headed to a little bench, flopping down onto it, legs splayed out and hands still in pockets. His shoulders were hunched against the hard wooden frame. Cesc sat beside him, seeming to shrink in on himself. There wasn’t much room left on the bench for him.

“They met while he was in Sevilla,” Pique supplied, his voice emotionless save for a little bite that crept in every now and then. “Apparently they just hit it off again and now he’s back.”

With a heavy sigh, he tipped his head back to the night sky. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, younger somehow.

“I did something really stupid.”

“What?” Cesc asked gently.

Pique couldn’t seem to look at him when he answered, voice barely more than a whisper. “I slept with him.”

“Oh, Geri.” Cesc’s hand was on his arm them, warm despite the cold air around them.

The other boy shook his head, screwing his eyes shut. “I know I shouldn’t have, but I hadn’t seen him in so long and I was confused...”

He let his voice trail off as Cesc shuffled along the bench, reaching for him and he leant into his body, half resting his head on his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault, Geri. You know what he’s like. He manipulates people, he gets in their head.”

“I thought I was over him,” Pique answered, his voice tight. “I thought I would never fall for that shit again, that I wouldn’t want him.”

Cesc stroked his hair soothingly and felt the other boy’s large hands fall lightly on his hips.

“You loved him,” he said quietly, and his chest hurt to think it, let alone say it out loud. “It’s his fault that he didn’t appreciate it, that he twisted it into something else. You should never feel bad about loving someone.”

Pique sniffed a little against his shoulder but didn’t say anything. They lapsed into silence for a few moments before he took a deep breath, lifting himself from Cesc’s shoulder and moving slightly away. Cesc let him go, his hands falling to his own lap and his eyes looking down.

“That’s not all there is.” Pique still spoke quietly, but he seemed more composed. “When he was in Sevilla, he got married again to some rich drunk. You know his type. She’s in rehab now and they’re getting divorced, but...”

Cesc looked up again, curious despite himself. “What?”

Pique’s eyes were on the ground, blank again as he answered. “He has a step son. His name is Jesus, he’s fifteen.”

He heard Cesc give a little gasp, knowing how his heart must have suddenly started to thud in his chest, how a cold sweat probably crept up his neck. It was the same way he felt when he had heard the news.

“Is he...?”

Pique nodded. “I think so. His room is next to mine and I haven’t heard anything yet, but the way they act together, it’s so obvious.”

“He’s living with you? Why?”

“He doesn’t have any family and his mum won’t be out of rehab for a while I don’t think. From what I’ve heard, she doesn’t have much interest in him. Of course, Roberto does, so he brought him here. He’s a strange kid. Barely comes out of his room and he has all these nightmares and panic attacks.”

Cesc was silent for a long time, and when Pique looked up he saw him frowning hard.

“I’m sorry.” He made to get up. “I shouldn’t have told you. We’re not friends anymore, and I know you don’t want to be involved in this stuff. I just needed to tell someone.”

“No, wait!” Leaping up, Cesc grabbed him by the arm before he was even a few steps away. “If you need any help with anything then just ask me. I know we’re not really close anymore, but this is more important than that, isn’t it? I mean, we can’t just leave that kid to get hurt.”

Pique looked at him steadily, for so long that Cesc started to squirm.

“This doesn’t make us friends again,” he said.

The other boy lowered his head. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Pique wasn’t sure what he was apologising for, but he turned away, heading back to the party.

“Come on,” he said, voice just a little bit softer than before. “Let’s get back before anyone notices we’re missing.”


	7. Chapter 7

The door didn’t even creak as it opened and then shut again, and two silent feet carried the man across the room. His movements, even if they had been louder, would have made no difference to the boy though, since Jesus was already awake.

He lifted himself up on one elbow, looking through the darkness.

“Is she gone?”

“Yes.” The bed dipped as Roberto sat down. “Gerard didn’t bother you while we were gone did he?”

Jesus shook his head, shuffling across on the bed to make room for his step-father. “I stayed in my room. He doesn’t talk to me anyway.”

“He’s just grumpy like that,” said Roberto, stroking his hand through the boy’s slightly curling hair.

“I’ve missed you,” Jesus mumbled, wriggling into his embrace and breathing in deeply. “It’s weird here.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Roberto purred, his hands slipping under the covers and pushing up the fabric of the shirt the boy was sleeping in. “You know why we came here, right?”

Jesus bit his lip, letting the large man nuzzle against his neck. His breath felt almost hot enough to burn.

“Because we’ll get lots of time alone, but we haven’t so far.”

Roberto rolled him gently onto his back, tugging down his underwear.

“We’re alone now, aren’t we?”

“Well, yeah but...” He broke off with a squeak. Roberto was stroking him into life and he bucked upwards.

“H-how long is she gone for?”

“All week,” Roberto answered, voice low and rough. “She has some very important business meetings.”

He smirked as he watched the boy’s face, eyelashes fluttering and mouth parted in a series of little sighs. He couldn’t tell in the thin sliver of light coming between the curtains, but he knew his cheeks and neck would be flushed red.

He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Does that feel good, baby?”

Jesus gave a frantic nod, reaching up and pulling the willing man down to him. They kissed hungrily, Roberto’s tongue invading his mouth within seconds.  
“Up on your knees,” he said, already kneeling up himself and rummaging in his pockets.

“But...”

Jesus lay on the bed, covers pulled back from him now, trying to keep his legs together.

“What?”

“I just... I haven’t seen you in so long, and...”

“Jesus, you know how much noise you can make and Gerard is right next door.” He softened his words with a smile, leaning down to kiss him again and running his hand up under his shirt. The boy gasped as rough fingers ran over his nipple, teasing it in a way that made him almost tremble.

Clumsily, he did as he was told, letting his t-shirt be pulled off so that he was on all fours, toes curled tightly as he waited. For a few agonising seconds he remained that way, hearing Roberto remove his own clothes and discard them on the floor. He glanced over his shoulder, as two large hands stroked over his ass. When they pulled his cheeks wide he gave a little whimper, trying to push back and lowering his face to the pillows.

“You embarrassed already?” Roberto laughed.

The body lowered further, only stopped by the man gripping his hips tightly and pulling him back up onto his knees. A cold breeze seemed to come out of nowhere and sweep over him, making him shiver. He could hear the wet sound of lubricant being rubbed over hands and then all over a sudden Roberto was touching him again, stroking roughly over his ass.

“I’ve missed this ass,” he said, forcing a finger in hard and making Jesus yelp a little. “Shh, keep it down.”

“S - sorry.” He was already starting to breath hard.

The finger forced it’s way in and out, slowly loosening him before another was forced in beside it. He buried his face in the pillow, biting down hard to muffle his pained moans. By the third finger he felt like his eyes would roll back in his head. Roberto was working quick to open him up, but he had already found that sweet spot that made him see explosions behind his eyes.

He gasped when Roberto knelt up, forcing his cock in suddenly. He knew he wasn’t all the way in, but he felt stretched already, full. Lifting his head from the pillows, he arched his back. Roberto was big enough to completely cover him, putting his hands either side of Jesus’s body and curving over his back. He nipped at the vulnerable skin of his neck and shoulders with his teeth.

“How does that feel?” he growled.

Jesus could only reply with a loud whimper. His breath came out in hard gasps as their movements sped up, never giving him time to catch the right rhythm.

Roberto reached under him, jerking him suddenly and roughly. With a series of moans he came, filling the man’s hand. For a second he worried that he may have cum too soon, but a few thrusts later, Roberto was groaning against his neck, their skin sticking together as he too came.

He pulled out, falling onto the bed and letting Jesus curl up in a ball beside him. Tentatively, Jesus reached out, his hand falling on his lover’s arm.

“Can you stay here tonight?” he asked quietly.

Roberto grinned, pulling him forward and giving him a sloppy kiss. “Sure. We can have a lot of fun this week.”

Jesus wriggled back under the covers, pulling them up to his neck and yawning. He watched Roberto lazily covered his low half with the blankets and closed his eyes. The boy lay very still for a few moments, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. He crept forward, kissing his arm carefully.

“Love you,” he whispered.

Roberto yawned before turning to face him and throwing a loose arm over his waist. “Love you too,” he mumbled.

Smiling a little, Jesus curled up against his warm body and closed his eyes, knowing he would have the best night’s sleep since he had arrived.

In the room next door, Pique’s sleep wasn’t nearly as peaceful.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“What’s wrong?”

Pique looked up at the worried tone of his old friend. They were hiding from the crowds in the bathroom. He had motioned for Cesc to follow him in the hallway but he wasn’t even sure he would come. He was glad he did.

The boy sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Is it Roberto?” Cec asked, lowering his voice and looking around to check they were alone.

Pique slumped back against the wall. “He’s sleeping with him.”

“With who? Jesus?”

Pique nodded. There were dark circles under his eyes form lack of sleep and his skin was paler than usual. Cesc felt himself start to worry at how bad the other boy looked.

“Are you sure?”

“I heard them. It was pretty obvious what they were doing.” He started to sigh, but the sound turned into more of a frustrated growl. “I knew he would do this. I tried to pretend that nothing was going on but of course it fucking had to be.”

He saw Cesc step forward.

“So what do we do now?”

“We?”

“I can’t know about this and not help. You want me to, right, that’s why you told me?”

Pique shrugged a little. “I guess. Don’t know what you can do though.”

“Maybe we should tell someone,” Cesc suggested.

“Like who? No one would believe me. He’s a fucking charming bastard, he can get out of anything. Besides, Jesus looks at him like he’s in love.” He looked at the ground, kicking against the wall lightly. “He’s just like I was.”

“But you worked it out,” Cesc tried to soothe. “Maybe Jesus will too, especially if he knew what Roberto did to you. I’m betting he thinks he’s the only one he’s done this with right now.”

A pout formed on Pique’s face but he looked thoughtful. “That might work. I mean, he’s in the same position I was in. Maybe I can get him to see sense and we can work this out.”

Cesc nodded, hoping that he had helped. “If there’s anything I can do...”

“Give me your phone,” Pique ordered, his familiar brusque tone back again. He strode forward, holding out his hand.

Cesc looked confused but did as he was told. He watched as Pique took his number.

“There,” he said, handing the phone back. “Now I can call you if anything happens.”

Cesc blinked. “Thanks.”

“I have to get to class. See you later.”

And with that he was gone, striding out of the room like he was in control of everything, just like always. Cesc stood in the middle of the bathroom and looked down at his phone. Pique’s number was on the little screen, waiting for him to save it. A slow smile crept over his face and he typed out his old friend’s name, storing it to his phone.

On the way to his first lesson, he checked it three times, just to see the name.


	8. Chapter 8

Jesus looked at the timetable in his hands and blinked rapidly. The letters looked like they were all blurring together. He was even getting confused as to whether the columns went left to right or up and down. He shook his head, trying to calm down as the cold sweat started on his neck. The bell had already went and whichever class he had first he was going to have to show up late to. Maybe he should just skip it and hide out in the library for a while. Assuming he could find it.

“You ok?” A heavy arm fell over his shoulders, making him jump. He was half relieved to see it was only Pique. At least it was someone he recognised.

“I’m fine,” he whispered. His fingers began to shake where he was gripping the piece of paper.

“Is that your timetable?” Pique leaned down closer. “You need help finding your class?”

“I just got a little turned around,” he whispered again. It had been a while since he had went to a normal school. His panic attacks had meant he was being privately tutored since the start of the year and now he was being thrown in the deep end, at a new school in a new city.

“Let me see.” Pique plucked the timetable from his hands and give it a quick once over. “You have French first,” he said, “With Mr Henry. Don’t worry, he’s nice. Come on, I’ll show you to his room.”

Jesus stumbled along behind him, fumbling in his bag as he tried to put his timetable away again. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Pique turned then and flashed him a wide smile that caught his housemate by surprise. They had had so little contact so far that he had been certain Pique really did hate him, like Roberto had said he would. He had even told him to stay away from the other boy, but being alone in a new school was making him desperate.

They walked in silence, finally stopping quite abruptly. Jesus looked at the door, feeling Pique squeeze his shoulder.

“Here you are. If you need anything else then just ask, ok?”

Jesus looked up at him blankly for a long moment before nodding and smiling. Maybe they had just needed an excuse to talk to each other.

“And if anyone gives you any trouble, just come and tell me. In fact...” He knocked on the door then before turning back to wink at the other boy. “I’ll let them see us together so they know not to mess with you.”

Jesus was still looking surprised when a voice from the other side of the door called them to come in.

Pushing the door open, Pique stepped in, holding his arm out to guide Jesus in past him. A good number of the students looked up in surprise and curiosity. Not that Jesus noticed, with his eyes firmly on the carpet.

“This is Jesus,” Pique beamed at the teacher. “He’s new. He’s supposed to be in here.”

“Ah, yes.” Thierry glanced down his class list. “I wondered where he had gotten to. Come in.” He smiled warmly at the new boy, leading him forward and thanking Pique for showing him the way. Pique walked out slowly, glancing over his shoulder to see Jesus heading to a seat in the middle and giving him one more smile before he went.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The contents of the boy’s bag scattered across the tiled floor and he sighed heavily. It was turning into a really hard day. Kneeling down, he started to gather them up, looking up in surprise when he realised someone was helping him.

He was met with a soft smile and warm, brown eyes.

“Need some help?” the other boy grinned, grabbing his notebook and some loose pens.

“Th-thanks.”

He took the items handed back to him, clumsily shoving them back into his bag. Standing up, he slung it over one shoulder.

The other boy stood up in time with him, tucking his long blonde hair behind one ear. “No problem. You new?”

Jesus nodded. “Yeah, I just started.”

“Cool.” The blonde was still smiling as he held out a hand. “I’m Alexis.”

“Jesus.” He shook the offered hand quickly. “You don’t know where the lunch hall is, do you?” He wasn’t sure what made him suddenly brave enough to ask for help. Maybe just the fact the other boy still hadn’t stopped smiling, or he didn’t know what else to say.

“Sure,” said Alexis, sounding quite eager. “You can sit with me and my friends. So, what lessons have you had?”

The lunch, which Jesus had been dreading, although he had considered looking for Pique to sit with, actually turned out to be quite good. Alexis did most of the talking, although Jesus was obligated to answer his questions, just to be polite. He was certain he didn’t misinterpret the apprehensive looks of the other boys at the table when he told them about his situation living with Pique. After that, the one called Cesc seemed to watch him even more closely. The others were all nice though and didn’t make him feel anywhere near as uncomfortable.

Alexis and Silva even walked him to his next lesson, given that it was on the same corridor. Maybe his first day wasn’t going to be so bad after all. The only thing he wished was that he could make some friends in his own year group so he didn’t have to sit in lessons alone, but at least Roberto would be proud of how well he had done. The thought made him smile.

At the end of the day, Pique was waiting for him outside, lifting his car keys and jangling them. “You want a lift?”

“Are you old enough to drive?” Jesus asked. He was sure Roberto said he was only seventeen.

The other boy just shrugged. “Nobody’s stopped me so far.”

It was an uneventful journey, and Jesus could feel the tension coming off Pique, could see his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. A few times he cleared his throat like he wanted to say something, but every time Jesus looked up he went silent again.

It wasn’t until they were safely home and Jesus was heading to his room that Pique caught his arm.

“I need to tell you something,” he blurted out, “about Roberto.”

Jesus blinked. Was everything ok? Had something bad happened to him?

“I slept with him.” Pique’s voice was barely above a whisper but it felt like he had shouted it in a crowded room the way Jesus’s stomach fell through the floor.

He took a step back. “What?”

“When my mum was married to him, we used to sleep together,” he admitted. “And I know he’s doing the same thing with you. I’ve heard you together.”

“No,” Jesus said, shaking his head. “We’re not. Nothing’s going on.”

“Jesus, I heard. I know what’s happening. It’s the exact same thing he did to me. I thought we were in love but this is just what he does and you need to know.”

“No!” Jesus insisted, backing away further. “You’re lying. He told me you would do this. You just always want the attention. He wouldn’t sleep with you.”

Pique gaped at him. This wasn’t the reaction he had expected. Denial sure, at least for a few seconds, but this anger? He wasn’t even questioning Roberto’s motives. Had Pique been this dumb himself when he was younger and thought he was in love?

“Jesus, please listen to me. He’s taking advantage of you.”

“He loves me,” he replied, his voice starting to waver. “He wouldn’t do that. Just leave me alone.”

Pique didn’t have time to grab him before he was racing up the stairs, tears streaming down his cheeks. The bedroom door slammed loudly, the lock turning a second later before Jesus slid down it, sobbing into his hands so hard it made his chest hurt.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Water lapped up the sides of the bath, splashing a little as Bojan shifted his position and lay his head on his lover’s chest. He purred with contentment.

“This is nice.”

Thierry’s hands glided down the smooth plane of his back, caressing gently over his ass before moving back again and repeating the motion. He was lying back comfortably, the bath wide enough for Bojan to straddle his waist and curl forward so he was all but lying on top of him.

He turned his head, leaving slow, deliberate kisses across Thierry’s dark skin until he groaned.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, voice echoing off the tiles even though he kept it low.

“We’re supposed to be relaxing,” the man said, “not getting all excited.”

Bojan grinned widely, licking the droplets of water from the middle of his chest. “I’m always excited with you.”

He felt Thierry’s hand on his cheek and reached up to kiss him before kneeling up a little more and letting their hips come into contact.

When Thierry ran his hand up over his stomach and chest, trailing water over them, he arched his neck back and moaned. Their hips rocked gently together.

Slowly, he lowered himself back down until Thierry reached up for a kiss, tired of waiting. He could feel Bojan giggling into his mouth.

Both sets of hands continued to explore, running gently over each other, occasionally squeezing or pressing more firmly to elicit a little moan or gasp. Thierry gripped Bojan by the ass, pulling him closer, his fingers rubbing firmly over the hole he so wanted to touch. He felt him gasp against his chest as he tickled that wonderful, tempting spot. He wriggled one finger gently inside, letting him adjust. Pressed against his stomach, he could feel his erection grow.

He dipped the finger further inside, finding Bojan open and eager for him. He was nuzzling his head against his partner’s chest, eyes closed but fluttering slightly in pleasure. His mouth parted in a beautiful sigh.

Thierry pushed in another finger, just a little way, instantly evoking another moan. Bojan began to roll his hips rather pornographically, his breath coming in hard, frantic gasps. The man twisted his fingers a little but mostly let the boy do all the work.

Trying to get more pressure, Bojan found himself kneeling up again, rolling his hips in tight little circles, his hands flat on Thierry’s stomach. His whimpers grew louder and more desperate until he was reaching behind and pulling the fingers out of him. Thierry didn’t put up a fight but looked at him in confusion. He continued to squeeze and rub at the ass with both hands.

Bojan wriggled his hips down, finding Thierry’s hard cock and rubbing up and down, along the length of it.

Thierry let out a long, ‘Mmm,’ of pleasure. Bojan repeated the motion a few times, his breathing calming down just enough although his body was still looking flushed. Suddenly he lifted his hips higher, letting the tip press between his cheeks for a brief second before he was sliding back down it again, pressing harder with each groan Thierry gave.

He reached behind him, holding the hard cock up against himself, rubbing against it firmly, pressing it to his entrance until Theirry was rolling his hips up in time. He even reached down for him, spreading his cheeks wide so his cock could rub firmly up against the entrance. So close, almost inside him.

Bojan’s breath came heavy against his neck. “Please,” he begged, pressing down on his cock. It would only take a second to push inside him.

Thierry’s eyes opened, heavy with lust and he sat up, pushing Bojan onto his lap, where he kissed him hungrily.

Tightly, he hugged him, kissing fiercely at his neck, before whispering in his ear, “Come to bed.”


	9. Chapter 9

Thierry looked down at the body, spread-eagled before him. The water on Bojan’s chest and legs was still glistening in the soft lamplight, little droplets escaping to make the bed sheets damp. His chest rose and fell heavily, tight muscles of his stomach and arms caught in half shadow, making them look more defined than Thierry knew they really were. The same shadows made his face look both older and younger, depending on only a slight turn of his head.

Thierry reached for the bedside table, pulling out the condoms and lubricant before he could over think things. Bojan wriggled beneath him as he watched, his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to catch the other man’s eye, but Thierry was too focussed on lubing his fingers to look up.

“Here,” he said, lifting Bojan’s slightly trembling hand and squeezing some of the liquid into it. “Help me out.”

Guiding the hand down to his cock, he let Bojan wrap his fingers around it, stroking him until he was well covered. He lowered his body close to his lover, pressing two fingers back into him. Bojan groaned and tightened, arching his head back so that Thierry could press a gentle kiss to his throat. Eventually, he sank back down, his already stretched muscles easing around the intruding fingers.

They lay for a while, eyelids heavy, stroking at each other, pressing and twisting and slowly opening, slowly getting hard. Thierry urged in a third finger, making Bojan grit his teeth and groan. At first he tried to get it over with quickly, but when he saw the beautiful pain etched on his partner’s face, he couldn’t help but slow down, torturing him just a little. His expression softened, mouth falling open in a desperate whimper as the third finger somehow made space for itself.

Thierry pushed more, not so much in and out as up against, over and over. Bojan’s breath jerked out of him with each thrust up against him, stretched so wide he didn’t even know it was possible. The fingers crooked and he gasped loudly. His hands had left the older man’s a long time ago, shuddering as they tried to cling to the bed.

“Are you ready?” Thierry whispered, face close to his ear, making his hair flutter lightly as he spoke.

Bojan reached for him with a whimper, burying his face against his neck. Thierry wriggled his fingers as he pulled them out, eliciting more whimpers and a very definite, excitable rolling of Bojan’s hips.

He lined himself up, rubbing the head of his cock over that glorious place he had been waiting so long for. Bojan felt his muscles tighten, his hips falling still.

“Titi,” he whispered. “I’m scared.”

The man looked up, his expression soft as he kissed him. “Shh, baby,” he soothed. “It’ll be ok. I promise I won’t hurt you, we can stop whenever you want.”

“You won’t get mad?”

Thierry couldn’t help but laugh a little at how young he sounded. “Baby,” he said, kissing him gently, “I love you.”

Bojan smiled at him a little. “I love you too.”

Stroking a finger over his waiting entrance, Thierry felt the boy relax again, his legs falling a little more open.

“You ready?” he repeated, watching the expression on Bojan’s face.

The boy nodded. “Ok.”

Thierry kissed him again before lining himself up and starting to push in, past that ring of still tight muscle.

Bojan half-yelped, his fingers digging into the man’s shoulder. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to take deep steady breaths and adjust. He knew Thierry was barely in and that he would get used to it, just like the fingers.

Thierry tried to push in a little further. The position he was in wouldn’t help Bojan relax. If he could just get in a little further then he would be past the worst of it, but he couldn’t bare to make him hurt again.

“Stop!” Bojan whined loudly, pressing his head to the man’s shoulder. He pushed at him feebly. “Stop.”

He growled again in pain as Thierry pulled back out, leaving him to breathe, without fear that every movement would hurt him more.

“Are you ok?” Thierry asked, reaching between his legs and palming at the sore place, massaging the ache out of it.

Bojan whimpered before grunting against the new feeling. Slowly his leg lifted, hooking over Thierry’s hip. His body lost it’s tension, hips rolling up to the roughly soothing hand. His breath turned to gasps as Thierry pushed back in again. This time Thierry forced himself in quickly, letting Bojan yelp again under him before his muscles suddenly gave way.

They lay like that for a second, Bojan’s blue eyes wide as he shivered. He couldn’t believe what was happening to him, and reached up for Thierry with a little whimper of his name.

“It’s ok,” Thierry soothed, though his voice sounded tight. “I’ve got you.”

He pressed up against him, not really moving in and out, but causing enough pressure to keep Bojan sighing with pleasure. Reaching between them, he gripped his cock firmly and began jerking it until his partner lost control. They both came quickly, Thierry barely even half way in but already overwhelmed by the tightness and the heat.

Bojan hissed when he pulled out but it was only a brief moment of discomfort. Carefully, Thierry managed to get them both under the covers, leaving his young lover for only a second to turn off the bathroom light before crawling in against his side. There was no time left to talk before Bojan’s exhausted body fell into a deep sleep, Thierry following close behind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jesus sat up with a jolt when someone tried to open his bedroom door and found it locked.

“Jesus? Are you in there?”

He leapt from the bed, wrenching the door open and throwing himself on Roberto, forgetting that anyone might be around to see them. Two strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close to the man’s chest.

“Your first day couldn’t have been that bad?” he laughed.

Jesus pulled back enough to look up for second, and then he stood on tiptoe, reaching for the man’s face and kissing at his neck, the only part he could really reach. Roberto leaned down to let him reach more, pleased by his eagerness.

The boy pulled back again, bottom lip trembling. “Take me to bed,” he whispered.

Roberto’s grinned turned wolfish, and he scooped him up in his arms, kicking the door shut as he did as the boy requested.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was two hours of comfortable, dreamless sleep before Thierry woke up. Someone had just slid their leg over his.

He made a little groaning sound, arching the kinks out of his back and turning to look at Bojan. His eyes fluttered sleepily.

“How long have you been awake?”

“A few minutes.” Bojan was huddled down in the covers, only his head and his dishevelled hair still visible.

Thierry turned to face him, stroking his fingertips over the soft skin of his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Ok,” he said quietly.

Thierry waited a few moments but when no further reply came, he snuggled down further, so he could see his face more clearly. “Are you sure? You’re not usually this quiet.”

The boy nodded, trying to give him a little smile. “It was just... weird, you know?”

Thierry smiled, losing his concern. “Good weird?”  
Wriggling closer, Bojan bit his lip to hide his grin. “Yeah, it was good, but it was different to all the other stuff. It felt sort of... important.”

He looked up, his face serious again. “I’m glad it was with you.”

“Me too,” Thierry beamed back at him, pressing a kiss to his head and then keeping his face their so he could breath him in for a moment.

“No regrets? Did I do anything wrong?”

Thierry was broken from his few seconds of enjoyment, letting out a laugh. “Baby, you were perfect. How could I regret you?”

And then Bojan was smiling again, wider than before, and pressing close to try and muffle his giggle against the man’s chest. He could feel Thierry laughing softly as well. Gently, he started dropping kisses on his partner’s chest.

Thierry hugged him tightly, pressing their bodies close.

“Does it hurt?” He moved one hand lower, nervous to touch him in case it did indeed hurt.

“Not really,” said Bojan. “It just sort of, aches.”

“Good.” Thierry kisses his head again, letting him turn on his back and get comfortable.

As they were drifting back to sleep again, a little voice broke the silence.

“Titi?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we do it again, in the morning?”

He couldn’t help the smile that appeared instantly on his face, or the laugh that came with it. “Of course, baby. We can do it whenever you want.”


	10. Chapter 10

Raul trailed his tongue up Guti’s chest, watching from under his eyelashes as his partner’s mouth fell open in a sigh.

“Does that mean you’re finished your work?” he asked, still not opening his eyes.

“For now,” Raul grinned in reply. He made himself comfortable, half covering Guti’s shirtless body. Arching close, he stretched the kinks out of his back.

Guti, knowing he had been working hard for most of the morning, wriggled his arm from where it was trapped between them, and let it find it’s way to the back of Raul’s neck. He massaged gently, eliciting a pleasured moan.

“Does that feel good baby?” he asked, moving his face closer. Raul tilted his without looking, feeling Guti close to him.

As their lips ever so softly brushed together, they were startled out of their peaceful moment by a knock on the door.

“Oh, that’ll be Sergio.” Guti pulled back, getting up off the bed. “He brought the shopping we needed.”

Raul sighed and lay back again. “I guess he does have some uses.”

Guti, already leaving the room, missed the comment.

“Got your shopping,” Sergio grinned, holding up the bag and leaning up for a kiss. Guti readily obliged.

“Don’t you have school today?” Raul asked, appearing in the doorway of their apartment. It was bigger than most student places, on account of Raul and Guti’s parents footing the bill. Still, with Raul’s final year artwork cluttering the place and three people inside, it suddenly felt very small.

Sergio shrugged, heading for the open plan kitchen. “Skipped it.”

“Here, I’ll do it.” Raul took the bag for him before he even had time to put it down.

“Baby, you’re tired,” Guti said, but Raul just shrugged off the hand that fell on his shoulder.

“It needs to be done,” he said, already opening cupboards and putting things away.

Guti stood and watched for a second, before looping his hand around Sergio’s elbow and tugging him gently towards the bedroom.

Sergio flopped down on the bed, eyeing Guti’s bare chest. “Were you waiting for me?” he asked, his usual grin replaced by something much more leering.

Guti crawled up next to him, taking him in his arms and letting him kiss him slowly, their tongues working together in perfect harmony. He pulled back, eyelids heavy and tucked a strand of loose hair behind Sergio’s ear.

“I like your hair blonde,” he said, voice low.

Sergio’s smile returned, making him look like a pleased little boy. “I hoped you’d notice.”

A fond look crept over Guti’s face before he turned serious.

“Honey, can you be nice to Raul?”

“Why?” Sergio pouted. “I’m always nice.”

There was that look again. “I know, baby, but I think he’s having some problems right now.”

“With what?”

Guti sighed. “With this. Since we started doing it again, he seems like he gets moodier whenever you’re around. I think he still feels like it’s just about me and you.”

“Oh.” Sergio looked down, frowning.

“We have all this history,” Guti continued, still keeping quiet in case they were overheard. “I know he said he forgave me for what happened and this is so we’re all even, but I want him to enjoy it too.”

Sergio laid his hands on Guti’s chest, watching them rise and fall with his breathing. “If he hates it so much then why doesn’t he call it off? He could just say he doesn’t want me here anymore.”

Guti’s sigh was heavy and he took one of Sergio’s hands in his own. “I think he’s scared I’d go with you, or that I’d be mad at him, or that I’d cheat on him with you.” He shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. Besides, I think he does like you but he feels left out. I want you two to be as close as I am with you both.”

Sergio wriggled closer, kissing Guti’s frowning mouth, trying to make it smile again. He liked it so much better when it was smiling.

“I like Raul,” he said. “I want him to be happy.”

“Then make him feel special,” Guti told him, rubbing their noses together playfully, until Sergio giggled and pulled away.

He looked up to see Raul in the doorway and immediately painted a bright smile on his face.

“Raul!” Sergio greeted, holding his arms wide and welcoming. “Come here.”

Cautiously, he crawled into the space now vacated between the two bodies on the bed and lay down, facing Guti. Sergio was on him in a second, crawling all over him and pressing kisses to his face and neck.

“Sese, calm down,” Guti laughed. He feebly tried to push him away, but Sergio only nuzzled closer.

“I’m just being nice,” he said, eyes glinting as he looked up.

“I’m too tired to have sex,” Raul mumbled from his position between them.

Sergio looked down at him, frowning. “That’s not what I meant.”

Guti decided to save the situation before Sergio started pouting again.

“He’s been working all morning,” he said, “that’s all. He needs some rest first.” He laid a little kiss on Raul’s forehead and felt him relax. His eyes were already closed.

“Oh,” said Sergio, snuggling down and twisting his arm over Raul’s waist. On his other side, Guti cuddled his boyfriend into his arms.

“You have a nice sleep, baby,” he said quietly. “We’ll hang out when you’re more awake.”

“You sure?” Raul asked, opening his eyes and starting to feel guilty.

“Of course. You’ve been working all morning while I’ve just been lying here. I’ll look after you while you sleep.”

Raul’s voice was small when he replied. “Thank you,” he said, nuzzling his face to his boyfriend’s chest and feeling the ache leaving his back as Sergio’s warmth pressed against him from behind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Silva jumped when he felt someone blowing against the skin of his neck. Almost instantly he recognised Villa’s laugh and slapped him on the arm.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“It kind of was,” Villa grinned. “So cutie, you waiting for someone?” He twirled his car keys around his finger. He had only passed his test the night before but as a celebration he had offered to drive Silva back to his place after school and then, well, they’d make up the rest of the celebration from there.

“Well, I was waiting for my boyfriend to drive me home,” said Silva, leaning against the wall, “but he always does these annoying things, so instead I might just break up with him.”

Villa fake gasped. “You can’t break up with him. I hear he has a sweet ride.”

Silva shrugged, leaning back against the wall and trying to appear uninterested. “It’s ok. Honestly, I’m just with him for his body.”

He couldn’t stop his lips from quirking up as he looked at Villa, who then moved in front of him, keeping him pressed against the wall.

“Oh really?”

Silva nodded just a little. Suddenly all he could see or feel was Villa. “I like it when he kisses me,” he whispered.

Cupping his cheek, Villa leant in slowly. “Like this?”

Silva gave a little sigh. “More,” he said, whispering still as Villa continued to kiss him. His hands glided lower, to his lover’s hips, one suddenly delving under his hoodie and t-shirt, coming into contact with bare skin before Silva squeaked and tried to push him away.

“Shit, your hands are freezing.”

“Aww, baby,” Villa whined, trying to pout as well as Silva did. “I thought you liked it.” He pushed his hands back under the fabric, pressing them firmly onto the wriggling tummy of his boyfriend.

“Villa, stop it!” he squealed, squirming even more but still unable to escape.

Than Villa was kissing him again, both smiling against each other’s lips as his hands continued to tickle and torture. Silva scrambled to push them away.

“I just want to feel you,” Villa joked, taking both of Silva’s wrists and pinning them above his head. One of his hands then continued it’s cold explorations of now goose-bumped skin.

“Stop it.” Silva squirmed harder than ever, trying to turn his head away from Villa’s insistent mouth.

“Get off him!”

Villa stumbled back, a surprised look on his face as somebody grabbed him and pushed away so that he almost fell. Silva gasped against the wall, recognising the assailant at once. A horrible jolt ran through his stomach and he exclaimed loudly, “Alexis!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh Alexis caught them!!!


	11. Chapter 11

“You stay the fuck away from him!” Alexis warned, stepping in front of his friend and blocking Villa from him.

“It’s none of your fucking business,” said Villa. He pulled himself up to his full height, which still wasn’t very much and tried to stare the other boy down. Now would be a really good time for Silva to tell the truth.

“He’s my friend,” Alexis said. “You can’t just jump him, you pervert.”

“Silva, tell him,” Villa ordered, his jaw tightening with impatience.

“Tell me what?” Alexis looked over his shoulder but didn’t move out of the way.

With all eyes suddenly on him, Silva felt his mouth go dry. He could feel Villa watching him, waiting for him to announce their relationship to his best friend, but he also knew Alexis was just trying to protect him and he was about to lose all that if he spoke now.

He gaped stupidly. “I... I...”

“Tell him.” Villa stepped forward, his voice taking on a note of desperation. He could see the fear on his lover’s face even as he kept looking down. This was it, he wasn’t going to tell him, he was just going to keep quiet like always. He was going to ignore all of the things Villa had said to him and done for him, all the things they had done together and he was going to throw it away.

“David, please,” he tried one last time, hating how his voice sounded. If he didn’t tell him now then he would have to walk away. He couldn’t let Alexis of all people know how much it would hurt.

He took a step forward, but Alexis was pushing him again and telling him to leave Silva alone.

“Fuck off!” Villa said, pushing back.

Alexis reacted in a second, punching Villa hard in the face and leaving him on the floor.

“David!” Silva exclaimed, pushing Alexis out of the way and dropping to his knees so hard it hurt. He reached for his boyfriend, who was already holding his face and growling in pain and anger.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

Villa looked up, holding the side of his face, and saw the concern in his eyes. Softly, he nodded. “I’m fine.”

Carefully, Silva helped him up, Alexis taking a step back as he did.

“What the hell’s going on?” he asked, though his voice was quieter now too, more confused than angry.

Silva turned to face him, hands still on Villa, but couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye yet. “Alexis, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“What?” He took another step back. “No way, you can’t be. Are you an idiot? It’s fucking David Villa. He’s a bastard.”

“No, he’s not,” Silva quietly argued. “He’s been really nice to me and -”

Alexis cut him off with an unimpressed snort. “He’s been nice to you?” he mocked. “Are you kidding me? He’s been using you. How long has this even been going on?”

“A few months,” Villa said, shrugging his shoulders and allowing himself a smirk when he knew Silva wasn’t looking.

“Months!? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m sorry,” said Silva, one hand clinging to the back of Villa’s jacket to steady himself. “I was worried that you’d get mad.”

“I have every right to get mad,” Alexis shouted. “He’s a bully. He’s treated us all like crap and now you’re defending him. Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s not like that,” Silva whispered so low that Villa was surprised Alexis heard it.

“What is it like then? Are we not good enough for you anymore, or are you just that desperate?”

Hearing the sneer in his friend’s voice, Silva pressed closer to Villa’s side and was thankful for the tight arm squeezing his shoulders.

“Alexis -”

“No!” the other boy barked, holding his hands up. “Don’t fucking apologise and don’t fucking talk to me either. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

The more he heard Silva sniffle by his side, the more Villa glared at the other boy but Alexis didn’t seem to care enough to stop.

“You’re disgusting,” he said, eyes jumping between the two boys. “Do what you like. Let him use you for all I care, just don’t come crying to me afterwards.”

He turned on his heel, storming off. When Villa looked back at Silva he almost looked like he was in shock.

“Are you ok?” he asked, quietly.

Pulling himself back together, Silva gave a nod, sniffing back any tears. He looked at his boyfriend and gasped.

“Your eye,” he said, reaching up to gently cup his face.

“It’s fine,” Villa tried to tell him, moving his hand gently away.

Silva shook his head. “You’ve got a black eye already. We should put some ice on it.”

“David.” Villa caught his wrist as he reached for his face again. “Are you sure?”

Silva nodded but looked down, swallowing down his tears. “I don’t want to talk about it here,” he whispered, letting his head fall to Villa’s shoulder. “I knew he would hate me.”

“Shh, sweetie.” Villa wrapped him in a warm hug, pressing a kiss into his hair. He wanted to say something more comforting but he was still too mad at being punched and insulted to say anything nice about Alexis just being shocked and needing time to adjust.

Silva turned his face so his cold nose was pressed against Villa’s neck. “Can we still go back to yours?” he asked. “Are you ok to drive?”

Villa stroked his hand up and down his back a few times before letting go. “Of course, come on. I think we both need to rest now, and I really do need that ice.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jesus put his head down and tried to make his way quickly around the almost empty car park. He had taken his time at his locker and going to the bathroom to miss the crowds, and now the low number of cars indicated that only the teachers were left. He jumped when he heard someone call his name.

“Hey,” said Sergio, smiling as always as he approached. Jesus hadn’t even noticed him waiting by his car. “Have you seen Gerard?”

Jesus simply shook his head, fiddling with the strap of his bag and letting his eyes go wide.

“Oh,” Sergio said, smile turning to a pout. “He was meant to meet me here. I was returning a DVD. Do you think he forgot?”

“I...” Jesus gaped, his voice disappearing.

He heard footsteps behind him and stepped back against the wall to let them past but the person stopped.

“What you doing here?” Cristiano asked. “I thought you weren’t in today.

“Waiting for Pique,” said Sergio, sighing a little. “He bugged me about returning his stupid DVD and now he hasn’t shown up.”

“Oh, he wasn’t in last lesson,” Cristiano told him. “I think he went into town or something.”  
Sergio sighed again. “Ok, I guess I’ll drop it off at his place.” He turned back to Jesus who had been shuffling his feet, wondering if he could sneak away. “You want a lift home?”

Jesus let his mouth fall open again.

“Come on,” Sergio encouraged, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the car. Jesus didn’t see that he had any other choice.

Sergio did most of the talking on the journey, pointing places out to Jesus and smiling warmly at him until Jesus smiled back. Just doing it out of politeness seemed to make him feel more comfortable.

When they got home, the house was quiet.

“Where is everyone?” Sergio asked.

“Gerard’s mum is away on business,” said Jesus, the first thing he had managed to say since Sergio had offered him a ride home.

“Where’s your dad?” Sergio asked, wandering into the kitchen and grabbing a grape from the fruit bowl.

Jesus put his bag down, more for something to do than because he really needed to. He usually took it upstairs.

“Roberto is out all day. He had a work thing.” He shrugged a little. Roberto’s work was none of his business.

Sergio paused, smiling a little as he realised they were all alone.

“So,” he said, leaning back on the kitchen counter. “Gerard said you were from Sevilla.”

Jesus nodded.

The smile grew on Sergio’s face again. “Me too.”

“Really?” Jesus’s head shot up, eyes wide and eager. “Where about?”

Sergio stepped forward, wrapping his arm around him and guiding back to the door. He knew the homesick boy would find that interesting. They were going to need to find somewhere comfortable to sit to really get to know each other and suddenly Jesus seemed eager to take part.

Midway through the TV show they had ended up watching, Sergio had never expected Jesus to fall asleep against his side. He had only slipped his arm over the back of the couch because, well, he couldn’t help himself, but he had never expected him to fall asleep and slump against him. It was kind of nice though.

Making himself comfortable he settled down to watch the rest of the show in peace. Occasionally, he would feel Jesus shift a little against him or hear him make a small snuffling noise but mostly it was quiet. After a little while though, the younger boy started to twitch his legs quiet badly.

“No,” he mumbled, his face flickering with different expressions before suddenly he was pulling away. “Stop,” he said, eyes open now but staring blankly. “Stop it.”

Sergio reached for him wide eyed, unsure what to do. He knew he was having a nightmare but he had no idea what to do about it.

“Sergio,” a little voice gasped.

“It’s ok,” he said. “I’m here. Just relax.”

Jesus nodded, although he still didn’t look fully awake. He let Sergio cradle him in his arms though, his body still tense and his hands shaking a little.

“It’s ok,” he whispered to himself.

“It is. It’s fine, I’ve got you.”

He whimpered involuntarily. He couldn’t stop trembling but having another warm, solid body beside him was certainly helping. “I’m tired,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he said it but it was definitely true. He really wanted to go back to sleep, and yet he was afraid to relax in case it happened again.

“Ok sweetie,” said Sergio, suddenly standing and scooping him up in his arms. Jesus gasped a little but was soon leaning into his body, keeping his eyes closed and starting to drift asleep again as they made their way up the stairs. He absently thought of how Sergio had no trouble carrying him.

“Where’s your room?” he asked.

Jesus mustered all his strength to answer. He didn’t really care where they were so long as he could feel as relaxed as he did right then. “By Gerard’s,” he managed to mutter.

Before he knew it, he was being lain down under the cool sheets of his bed, Sergio pulling off his shoes. His body felt heavy as he lay still.

“Sergio,” he managed, barely opening his eyes. He didn’t like how cold the air was around him all of a sudden. “Don’t go,” he whispered, sounding just a little whiney.

He felt Sergio stroke a hand through his hair and it felt very far away, like he wasn’t really even in his body anymore.

“Ok honey,” he heard Sergio say and then there were some sounds he barely noticed, followed by the lifting of covers and the dip of the bed. And then there was the lovely warmth all around him again. A tiny smile grew on his mouth, all he could manage, and it stayed there even as he fell asleep.

With the boy cuddled to his chest, Sergio suddenly found himself feeling very sleepy and closed his eyes. It wasn’t long before they were both asleep, and so neither heard the sound of the door opening.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: rape, though not in any detail

Sergio woke up very suddenly, someone shouting in his face as he was pulled from the bed. He heard Jesus yelp in surprise.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” the man screamed at him, fisting his shirt in his hands and pressing their faces close together.

Sergio liked to think he was a brave person but only half awake, with someone much taller than him screaming in his face had rendered him speechless.

“Get out of my house!” he shouted, pushing Sergio towards the door.

He stumbled, finding Roberto’s hand gripping his arm to keep him moving. He still didn’t have any shoes on.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” he exclaimed. “I was waiting for Gerard and he had a nightmare and I -”

“Oh, you’re one of his friends, are you? I’ve heard about you lot.”

Sergio went where he was directed as they reached the stairs, too scared about falling down them to fight back. He almost tripped at the bottom.

“If I catch you anywhere near him again I’ll make sure you can’t fuck for the rest of your life,” Roberto growled, his eyes blazing so that Sergio cowered.

“I wasn’t... Jesus, tell him.”

But the boy in question was still standing at the top of the stairs, looking very young and very scared.

“Don’t you fucking look at him,” Roberto said, pushing Sergio out the front door and letting him fall. Sergio didn’t even have time to stand before the door slammed and he was locked out.

His heart was pounding at an alarming rate and it took a few moments for him to calm down. Taking a deep breath and running his hands through his hair, he headed for his car. He was going to have to drive home without any shoes, but he definitely wasn’t going back in to get them.

He pulled away quickly, glancing back over his shoulder once and hoping Jesus wouldn’t get in too much trouble.

Jesus felt his legs tremble as Roberto stormed back up the stairs to him and he almost turned tail and ran.

“It’s not what it looked like,” he said, cowering.

The man didn’t say a word, just grabbed him painfully tight by his arm and dragged him back to his bedroom. As soon as they were in he kicked the door shut and had him pushed up against the wall.

“What the hell were you doing? I warned you about Gerard’s friends. They’re only after one thing, Jesus.”

“He was nice to me,” Jesus whimpered. He was sure if Sergio had wanted something from him then he would have made it clear.

“Of course he was nice to you,” Roberto shouted. “He was trying to fuck you. And you just let him in your bed like a fucking idiot.”

“I had a nightmare,” he mumbled.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! What the hell is wrong with you? You know what boys like that are like. You know they wouldn’t be interested in anything else from you. Do you have any idea what I’ve done for you, how much I risk for you?”

“I know,” Jesus sniffled, still cowering against the wall, Roberto looming over him. He flinched at every harsh word.

“No, you don’t know.” Roberto grabbed him and slammed his back against the wall, making him yelp. “If you knew then you wouldn’t do this shit to me. I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” he sobbed, reaching for his shirt, but Roberto grabbed his hands before they touched him and pinned them to the wall.

“Then you should act like it. You should only let me touch you.”

“He didn’t touch me.” Jesus by now had his eyes squeezed shut, wriggling against the wall and trying to break Roberto’s grip on him.

“You better hope not,” Roberto hissed. He let go, shoving Jesus away and reaching down to undo his belt. “Get on the bed.”

Jesus let his eyes widen when he realised what he was doing. “No,” he mumbled, the word slipping out before he had time to stop it.

He knew it was a mistake as soon as Roberto grabbed him again, pulling him close and hissing in his ear. His breath was hot against the boy’s face, but it made him shiver.

“I think you owe me, don’t you.”

Jesus tried to pull away, but his step father was too big and too strong for someone as small and panicked as him to resist. His nails were too bitten down to even scratch him. He screamed when he dug his hands into the soft flesh of his side but Roberto didn’t even bother to cover his mouth. He knew there was no one else in the house.

“Please, don’t,” Jesus sobbed, helplessly.

“You should have thought about that before you became a little slut,” said Roberto, pulling down his pants.

Jesus turned his head to the side and continued to sob uncontrollably.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“So you told him?” Cesc asked, his hands around his warm coffee cup.

Pique nodded but the following sigh was heavy. “He wouldn’t even listen to me.”

“Well you wouldn’t either when you were with him,” Cesc said, but his tone was gentle.

“I know.” He took a sip of his coffee. It had taken him all day to decide to ask Cesc to come for coffee with him where they could talk things over. He himself had been in there for an hour and a half before he made the call, asking him to come straight after school.

“What am I supposed to do now?”

Cesc pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Maybe he just needs some time to adjust to the idea.”

Pique shook his head and slumped back with a sigh. They had chosen the comfortable couches in the corner of the little shop and as he fell back, their shoulders brushed together.

“He’s not like me. He might not ever get to the stage where he realises how wrong this all is.”

They were silent for a few minutes, Cesc watching the miserable look on his friend’s face. Finally, he took a little breath and reached his hand the short distance needed to lay it on Pique’s arm.

“It’ll be ok,” he said. “We’ll work something out.”

Pique turned to look at him, but he didn’t pull away. “You don’t have to be involved with this,” he said. “I know it was too much for you last time.”

Cesc shook his head. “I was too young then, and I really did want to help.”

A little smile crossed Pique’s face. “I know. I’m sorry I did so much stuff to push you away.”

Cesc lowered his gaze, unable to look at him anymore as the memories came flooding back. He sniffed a little, embarrassed when Pique reached for his far arm, turning him to face him again.

“I never meant to use you,” he said. “You know that, right?”

Cesc nodded.

“I’m serious. I know you thought I was taking it out on other people because I was mad and couldn’t get rid of him, but I really meant it with you.”

“You did?” Cesc looked up hopefully.

Pique cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks heat up a little. He had felt this conversation coming since they had started talking again, but he still wasn’t quite ready for it.

“You were my best friend,” he said, like it was obvious. “You were the only one who didn’t think I lied about everything.”

“Even though you usually did,” Cesc grinned.

Pique laughed back. “Yeah well, at least I didn’t have to lie with you.”

“It was too much for me,” said Cesc, turning serious again. “I thought I was ready, but I wasn’t and you really pushed for it.”

He smiled involuntarily when Pique gave his arm a little squeeze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to feel pressured; I just didn’t want to be with him anymore. I guess I felt like if I slept with someone else then it would make what I had with him mean less. I didn’t want to belong to him anymore.”

“I know.” Cesc reached up for him, not wanting him to feel bad after all he had been through. “I didn’t understand then, that’s why I panicked, but I get it now.”

“You promise?”

Cesc nodded dumbly, aware that Pique was suddenly leaning in close. He licked his lips, trying to make it look subtle but Pique obviously saw because his gaze dropped and he watched the movement of his tongue. Cesc’s eyes closed as their mouths met, warm and soft on each other. Pique brushed their lips together, Cesc sitting still, mouth just slightly parted, smiling a little as the movement began to tickle. With a last little kiss, Pique pulled back.

Clearing his throat, Cesc seemed to pull himself back together. He sat up straight, putting a little distance between them.

“I’m sorry,” said Pique, turning away and playing with his coffee cup. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s ok,” Cesc replied, “I just didn’t expect it.”

He found a loose thread on his pants and started to pull at it. After a few seconds he glanced up, seeing Pique already watching him. Catching each other’s eye, they both laughed breaking the tension.

“You want another drink?” Pique asked, standing up.

Cesc was still smiling widely. “Please.”

It was a long time before Pique dropped Cesc off again at his house. They had lost track of time reminiscing about their youth before moving on to more recent interests they had in common. By the time he got home he was feeling tired but still smiling. At least the time together had lifted a weight from his shoulders.

The house was quiet as he made a quick snack in the kitchen and then headed upstairs. He hoped there wouldn’t be any suspicious sounds from Jesus’s room to disturb his good mood that night. Placing his food on the bedside table, he started to get changed. He was surprised to hear a knock on the door.

Crossing the room he pulled the door open and was met with Jesus, leaning heavily against the wall. He froze as he spotted the bruises up his arms and, God, between his legs.

“Jesus, what happened?”

He reached for the boy who collapsed into his arms, sobbing again. He pulled him gently into the room, supporting most of his weight and locked the door.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Jesus asked between shuddering breaths.

Pique pressed his face into the boy’s hair, feeling him shaking in his arms.

“Of course, sweetie. Of course.”


	13. Chapter 13

It was quite a while before Jesus calmed down again, finally feeling safe as he sat cuddled up on Pique’s lap, in the older boy’s bed. His tears gradually subsided and his breathing calmed as Pique rocked him back and forth, stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he finally mumbled.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Pique told him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

Jesus sniffled against his chest. “I should have listened to you. You were right.” He rubbed at his eyes, catching any stray tears. “He’s not usually like that.”

“Sweetie,” Pique started slowly, “was there a reason he...?”

“I made him mad,” Jesus whispered.

“What happened?” Pique asked, and then sat quietly as Jesus explained the whole story, ending with Roberto slamming the front door and then Jesus waiting for Pique to come home.

Stroking Jesus’s hair again, Pique was quiet for a long moment. Eventually the other boy turned to press his face to his chest, speaking into it.

“Did he ever do it to you?”

“No,” Pique answered quietly, “but probably only because I didn’t put up a fight. Near the end I didn’t really want him anymore but I couldn’t get rid of him, so I just let him do what he wanted. I guess I was scared that if I said no then he wouldn’t listen, so I pretended I was ok with it.”

Jesus’ voice was quiet. “I hate it. It makes me feel so dirty.” His body shuddered as he started to cry again.

Shuffling off the bed, Pique helped him up, guiding to the bathroom even as he kept sniffling. He hovered nervously, shuffling from foot to foot to ease the various pains in his body as Pique set about filling the bath. Once the water was high enough and a good temperature, he turned to help Jesus out of his clothes, trying not to look at the bruises flourishing over his skin.

Pique stopped when he only had his underwear left.

“Do you want to?” he asked, gesturing.

Jesus shrugged, eyes on the floor. “What difference does it make?”

Carefully, Pique pulled them down for him and held most of his weight as he stepped into the bath and tried to sit down. As soon as his ass was on the hard surface he yelped a little. Pique reached out to catch him.

With a sob, Jesus clung to the side of the bath. “I can’t.”

“Ok, honey, just wait.” Pique undressed quickly, too quickly for Jesus to really notice what was happening before the water was sloshing and Pique was pulling him onto his lap again. He cradled him gently.

“That better?”

Jesus nodded, trying to ignore the slippery body he was sitting on top of. Pique’s hands stroked over him, lathering soap on his skin too quickly and thoroughly for it to feel sexual.

“Can I?” he asked, pausing with one hand barely on his ass.

Jesus sniffed and hid his face against the other boy’s shoulder but nodded.

As gently as he could, Pique let his fingers glide over his abused hole, making him hiss and tighten, though he still felt loose. Very carefully he cleaned him, apologising every time he made him whimper.

When he was finished he held him close against his body, pressing a little kiss into his hair.

“Thank you,” Jesus mumbled.

“Have you had anything to eat?” Pique asked, still trying to stay practical for fear that if he didn’t he would end up doing something stupid.

Jesus shook his head.

“Ok, I’ll get you some food,” he said, easing Jesus off his lap and wrapping him in a towel as soon as they were out of the bath. “I’ll get you some clothes too.”

Jesus nodded, but as soon as he saw Pique heading for the door he gave a little whimper. Pique turned to see him wide eyed in fear and crossed back over to him, cupping his face with his large hands.

“It’s ok,” he told him, “relax. Just lock the door behind me ok, and I’ll knock when I want to come back in. You’ll be safe.”

“Are you sure?” Pique could feel the young boy shaking in his hands as he looked up at him.

“I’m sure,” he said, kissing his forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

He had barely let the door shut behind him before he heard the lock turn. He tried to collect the food (more than they would really need) as quickly as possible, making a stop off to grab some comfy looking pyjamas from Jesus’ room.

He had to both knock and call out for Jesus before the door was reopened and he could help the boy get ready for bed.

“Did you lock the door?” he asked, snuggling down in bed again, his tummy as full as he could get it despite feeling quite nauseous.  
“I did,” Pique replied. He saw the uncertainty in Jesus’ eyes and had to get up to show him that he was telling the truth.

“Thank you.”

“It’s ok,” said Pique. He crawled into bed, letting the young boy press close in his arms, almost completely covered by the bed sheets. “You just rest. No one’s going to hurt you in here.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day, Silva walked into school a little late. He had done it on purpose, hoping to miss the worst of the crowds, although he did want to check on Villa. Still, his plan didn’t seem to work because as soon as he was on school premises he could hear the whispers and see people looking at him. He hurried to his locker, trying to keep his head down.

“Is it true?”

When he looked up, he found Bojan beside him.

Silva bit his lip, looking down. He could lie, but what good would that do? “Yeah.”

“You and Villa?”

He nodded, waiting for Bojan to tell him how stupid he was. Nothing came and when he looked up again, his friend seemed to be deep in concentration.

“Have you seen Alexis?” Silva asked.

“He’s mad at you,” Bojan answered. “He told me what happened last night. I think he told everyone.”

“Yeah,” said Silva, glancing at the people still whispering and looking in his direction, “I noticed that.”

Bojan shook his head. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“You don’t know him like I do. Please tell Alexis I never meant to hurt him.”

Before Bojan could answer, Silva jumped, feeling a hand on the small of his back. He turned to see Villa close behind him, giving Bojan quite a hard stare, made worse by his black eye.

“Are you ok?” he asked Silva, though he kept looking at the other boy.

“I’m fine.” Silva ducked his head. “We were just talking.”

“Bojan.”

They all looked up when they heard the voice. Alexis was standing a short distance away, determinedly not looking at the couple.

“Are you coming to class?”

The boy turned back to Silva, giving him a little shrug and speaking quietly. “Sorry. I have to go.” He turned quickly, following Alexis who had already turned away.

“It’ll be ok, sweetie.” Villa kissed the side of his head. “Do you want me to walk you to class?”

“I guess.”

He let Villa put his arm around him and tried not to look up at the curious eyes that followed them as they walked down the corridor.

The bell had gone and everyone had wandered to their classes, apart from a few stragglers, when Jesus finally showed up at his locker. It had taken a while for him to get ready, neither he nor Pique being really sure what to do that day. In the end, Jesus had decided he didn’t want to be at home for a while, although he was now regretting his decision.

He put his things in his locker slowly, debating whether or not to just hide out in the library all day or maybe just walk out. Nobody seemed to notice when other students did it. He was startled out of his thoughts by a voice very close by. Turning, he saw Sergio.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said.

“S’ok.”

“I didn’t think your dad would react like that. I mean, we weren’t even doing anything.”

Jesus was quiet, pretending to check his bag.

“You didn’t get in trouble did you?”

He shook his head, closing his locker and turning away.

“Hey, do you want to hang out? I’m sure no one is going to interrupt us this time.” Sergio flashed his most charming smile, but Jesus barely glanced at him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t be friends with you.” He turned away again.

“Hey, wait.” Sergio reached out, catching him by the wrist but letting go instantly when Jesus yelped in pain. Tears seemed to well up in his eyes straight away, like they had been threatening the whole time.

Sergio reached for him again, taking his hand gently and pulling him closer. He pushed back the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a ring of bruises around his wrist.

“Don’t,” Jesus whimpered, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Did he do this to you?” The shock was evident in Sergio’s voice. He got no reply, so he tried again. “Jesus, please tell me. This is important.”

“What’s going on?” Pique interrupted them, seeming to appear out of nowhere. He hadn’t even made it to class before he decided to turn back, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to concentrate and neither would Jesus. He was very glad that he did.

Jesus slipped his hand out of Sergio’s grip, pulling his sleeve back down. “I’m sorry.”

No sooner were the words out than Pique was wrapping him in his long arms again, turning to face Sergio.

The Sevillan looked between the two of them in confusion before catching Pique’s eye.

“I think you better tell me what the fuck is going on.”


	14. Chapter 14

“I can’t believe it,” said Sergio, shaking his head. “That bastard!”

Pique sighed. He felt the same way, but he had no idea what to do about it. “We haven’t seen him since it happened. For all we know he ran away already.”

Sergio gave a snort of disbelief. “You still need to call the police.”

Shamefully, Pique looked down. “He won’t let me. He’s embarrassed.”

“So? They need to know. What if he does it to someone else?”

Pique rubbed his hands over his face, groaning. He had been through this with Jesus already. He couldn’t do it again. “He doesn’t want anyone to know. He feels like it’s his fault. I don’t think he’s really ready to talk about it yet.”

Sergio leant to the side, looking past Pique to where Jesus sat on a bench, just out of hearing distance, sipping on a juice box. He looked so small, shoulders hunched and head down to make himself even smaller. How could anyone ever mean to hurt him?

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, quieter now. His anger had softened as soon as he looked at the boy.

Pique shook his head. “I think I’ll just take him home. He’s not ready for school today.”

“Is it safe at home?”

“My mum will be back tonight. He won’t try anything like that with her around. Besides, I don’t plan on leaving Jesus alone if I can help it.”

Sergio nodded and reached out to hug Pique tightly. “If either of you need anything...” He left the sentence unfinished, knowing Pique understood what he meant.

“Thank you,” said the other boy, squeezing him back just as tightly. “Don’t worry. He’ll talk eventually.”

Sergio stepped back and let Pique turn, calling Jesus’ name. The boy stood carefully and approached them. He didn’t dare look Sergio in the eye, but the Sevillan reached down for his small body, giving him a gentle hug and kissing him on the head.

“Take care of him,” he told Pique.

“I will,” said the other boy, wrapping his arm around Jesus’ shoulder and leading him back across the car park.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Days passed by in the same routine, Roberto drifting around the house but never finding either boy alone since they spent most of their time in Pique’s room. They designed their schedule around him working, sneaking down to stock up for food when they could. Sergio dropped by now and then when it was safe, sitting with Jesus while Pique usually took advantage of the free time to shower or do his homework. It was strange having someone around him all the time, though he wouldn’t complain about the warm little body that held onto him every night.

Still, he knew they couldn’t stay like that forever, and Jesus was still refusing to call the police. “Just a few more days,” he would always say, but Pique had caught him staring out the window once, watching Roberto in the garden with his mum. He had turned around and headed for the shower before Pique could say anything, and he was in there for a very long time. He came out with shaky legs and a decidedly quieter demeanour, even for him.

That was why Pique had decided on the party. His mum was away on business again, so there was little to stop Roberto causing more trouble. He hoped a house full of students would provide enough witnesses to stop him doing anything stupid. Honestly, he also needed a break from constant babysitting.

“Are you ready?” he asked Jesus, turning around to see the boy sitting on his bed, one leg curled up underneath him. “You can stay up here if you want and lock the door. There’ll be plenty of people around.”

His eyes flicked up, looking at Pique from under his lashes. “I’m not sure.”

Pique came to sit beside him, stroking his arm. “It’ll be ok, sweetie. You can do whatever you want.”

A tiny smile grew on the boy’s face and he moved forward, his body gentle and fluid, hands on Pique’s legs, somewhere near his crotch. He was kissing him before the boy knew what was happening. He gripped his waist to push him back but somehow ended up holding him in place. His mouth was warm and eager, moving too fast for Pique to keep up, and then he was crawling half onto his lap, nipping and licking his neck until he groaned. When the doorbell rang he all but fell back on the bed, scrambling to get away.

“I – I have to answer that.” He made a quick dash to the front door, leaving the bedroom door unlocked behind him for the first time in over a week.

Sergio and Cristiano were the first to show up, as usual, closely followed by enough to keep Pique occupied until things really got started. He spotted Jesus in the corner, with Sergio’s arm around his shoulders and dodged past before the boy had a chance to look up. It wasn’t long before the house was as full as it had ever been. Nobody even noticed Roberto come home and roll his eyes at the sudden invasion of teenagers.

Pique turned around in the kitchen, almost dropping the glass in his hand when he found himself face to face with Cesc.

“How’s Jesus?” he asked, after an awkward pause.

“He’s ok.”

Silence again, before Cesc managed to find something else to say. “I just haven’t heard from you all week and I was wondering, you know, if something was wrong.”

Pique ran a hand through his hair and looked away. He couldn’t tell Cesc the truth, it was Jesus’ private business and he had only told Sergio because, well he needed to tell someone. Besides that, the last time he had seen Cesc they had kissed and he didn’t need any more drama right now.

“Everything’s fine,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t feel at all genuine. “Look, I need to get back to the party.”

“Oh,” said Cesc, stepping back to clear the doorway. “Yeah, sure, of course. I’ll see you around.”

He went to get himself a drink, trying to look busy as Pique watched him over his shoulder. He could just go and kiss him now, like the other boy probably wanted, but the taste of Jesus still in his mouth made him turn away, letting the door shut quietly behind him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Hey, how you doing?” Alexis flopped down on the couch beside Jesus, making him jump. “I haven’t seen you much at school.”

Jesus shrugged. “I’ve been sick a little,” he lied.

Alexis ducked his head to get a good look at the boy, a tiny smile on his mouth. “You look ok to me.”

A blush coloured Jesus’ cheeks. “Thanks.”

He noticed the instant change in the other boy’s expression when he looked up again and spotted something across the room. He followed his gaze.

“Oh, I heard about them,” he said, seeing Villa and Silva, smiling at each other. Villa’s hand was resting on the smaller boy’s hip as they talked and sipped their drinks. Feeling eyes on him, Villa looked up. His mouth curled into a smirk when he saw the burning glare Alexis shot his way and he leant in to press a slow kiss to Silva’s neck.

Alexis tightened his jaw and turned to very determinedly face Jesus. “Do you want to dance?”

Jesus’ cheeks flamed red at the suggestion. “Oh no, I don’t dance.”

“Come on.” Alexis tugged on his hand and saw him shrink back. “It’s not so bad.”

Jesus still didn’t look convinced, but Alexis was already jutting out his bottom lip and looking so sad it made his stomach flip. The next thing he knew, he was on his feet and being pulled into the throng of moving bodies.

He cowered close to Alexis who invited him in, wrapping him in a protective cocoon of his arms, bending his head so it was near Jesus’. Their bodies were firmly pressed together as Alexis began to move, swaying his hips lightly and using his hand on Jesus’ hip to guide his own body into the same rhythm. He used his other hand to hold Jesus’ at his chest, somewhere near his heart. The boy pressed his face shyly against Alexis, eyes closed to help him block everything out but the gentle sway of their bodies.

It felt like a long time before Jesus pulled back, looking up at Alexis with sleepy eyes and a soft smile.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” he said, suddenly realising what he had said didn’t exactly fit the moment and breaking into a little laugh. Thankfully, Alexis smiled back at him and stepped back.

“I’ll wait for you here,” he said.

Jesus smiled widely and then ducked off into the crowd, disappearing amongst all the bodies. Alexis gave a happy sigh and went to get himself a drink.

He had almost forgotten about Silva and Villa, at least until he was in the kitchen and found himself looking into the face of the ever arrogant David Villa. With a groan of displeasure, he tried to push his way past.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?” Villa asked him.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you.” Alexis didn’t even turn to face him as he headed for the bench. He hoped Pique had something strong to drink.

“Well that’s not very nice,” Villa continued, fake sadness in his voice. “I am your best friend’s boyfriend after all.”

Alexis slammed his drink down on the bench and spun around. “You’re not his boyfriend. You’re just a stupid mistake that he’s going to work out soon and then he can forget all about you.”

Villa laughed. “Is that what you really think?” Still grinning, he stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “He’s in love with me, you idiot. You’re so jealous I can’t even believe it.”

“I’m not jealous,” Alexis growled, though his cheeks were turning as red as Jesus’ when he’d suggested they dance.

“Oh, you so are.” Villa’s voice dropped, taking on a more dangerous tone. “It must be killing you, seeing us together. Knowing he’d rather have me than you. Knowing I get to bone him whenever I want, while you two are just friends.”

Alexis was all but trembling with anger, but still Villa continued.

“I know you kissed him. He came running to tell me straight away. It must kill you knowing you can’t even kiss him when I can get him to do whatever I want. Do you want to know what he’s like in bed?”

Alexis pushed him so hard Villa almost fell down and was coming at him again when he noticed they weren’t alone. They both paused, turning to face the boy in the doorway.

Silva’s eyes flicked between them both, as wide and innocent as ever.

“What’s going on?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The party seemed like a good idea, although Sergio hadn’t been onboard with it at first. But now, seeing Jesus hanging out with other teens and Pique looking less stressed than he had in days, he would admit it had its’ advantages. Even he was feeling like things were back to normal as he descending the stairs, back to the party. Maybe he would even get a little action since everything seemed to be going so well.

He turned towards the main room where the party was being held, feeling a little light headed from the beer he’d already had. If he had walked any quicker he would have missed it, been back in the party before the sound caught his attention. He paused, wondering if he had really heard it. Then a door slammed, making him jump.

“No!” Jesus’ voice came to him from close by. “Get off.”

With his stomach in a knot, Sergio turned back, following the sound to a nearby office. He barged into the room and froze, eyes wide.

Jesus was being held on the desk by Roberto, his eyes wild with panic.

“Sergio,” he whined desperately, while Roberto kept him pinned on the desk. He was too scared to even wriggle.

It took the elder boy a second to even realise what he was seeing, but when he did he turned his angry glare on Roberto, wanting to punch him as hard as he could.

“Let go of him,” he growled. “Right now.”


	15. Chapter 15

“You slept with him?”

Silva couldn’t miss the accusation or the disgust in his friend’s voice, and his heart gave a little shudder. He still wasn’t used to Alexis being mad at him.

He looked between the two boys facing him in the kitchen, but before he could speak, Alexis was already trying to get to the door.

“Lexie, wait.”

Alexis didn’t look him in the eye until he was level with him, and then he pushed him roughly aside.

“You’re disgusting,” he said. Silva felt like he had been punched.

“Hey!” Villa shouted angrily at Alexis’ departing back, reaching for Silva at the same time. “Are you ok?”

“You told him.” Silva couldn’t seem to fit the right amount of anger into his voice, so he settled for shock.

“It just slipped out,” said Villa.

But Silva shook his head, slipping away from his searching hands. “Just leave me alone.”

Of course, Villa wasn’t to be so easily dissuaded. Silva was already rushing through the crowd with his head down.

“David, wait.”

He chased him out into the entrance hall, where he almost bumped into him as he suddenly stopped. Following his gaze, his jaw dropped. Why were Sergio, Alexis and Pique’s sort-of-step-dad rolling around on the floor? And was Jesus crying?

Sergio caught sight of them as he was pinned to the ground. “Get Pique!” he shouted.

Both boys turned on their heel and raced back into the party. Pique was talking to Cristiano when they found him, but as soon as they described what they had seen his face turned pale and he pushed them aside in his rush to get out.

Silva followed at the back of the group, feeling Bojan catch his arm as he went past. Cesc hovered close by, though his eyes were turned to where Pique had just departed.

“What’s going on?” he asked, face lit up with curiosity.

“Pique’s dad is fighting with Alexis and Sergio, and Jesus looks really upset.” His voice was breathless with surprise. He was still trying to work out what he had seen.

As soon as he reached the fight, Pique descended angrily on Roberto, helping the others to hold him up against the wall. It took all three of them to keep him anywhere near still. Cesc slipped past them and went to Jesus’ side, wrapping him gently in his arms and trying to soothe him. He had a better idea than most about what was going on.

To almost everyone’s surprise, Roberto laughed then. He looked Pique in the eye when he spoke, but his words were for all of them.

“So, you all want to bang him do you? Don’t you know he’s damaged goods?”

“Fuck you.” Pique slammed his fists angrily against his chest. “There’s nothing wrong with him. You’re the one who’s fucked up.”

Roberto smirked, silently daring Pique to try hitting him again. “You didn’t think that before.”

“Call the cops,” Pique ordered, glancing over his shoulder at his friends, but Roberto hadn’t missed the fear in his eyes. Villa pulled his phone out instantly.

“I’ll get everyone out the house,” Cristiano told the others. He rushed away quickly.

“Don’t you want your friends to know what happened?” Roberto asked. “Aren’t you supposed to tell people when you’re in love?”

“Shut up,” Pique hissed, feeling all eyes to on him.

“Face it, the only reason you don’t want me to touch him is because you want me to still be with you.”

Pique shook a little as he heard someone gasp. His hands were turning clammy as they gripped Roberto’s shirt.

“That’s not true,” he said, though his voice shook.

Roberto’s smile grew, and he knew he had said exactly what he wanted.

“Oh, really? Then why did you let me fuck you as soon as I got back here?”

Sergio and Alexis both turned to look at him, and he knew that everyone else was doing the same. His face crumpled and his grip loosened.

“Shut up,” he whispered, without any conviction.

“Oh baby,” Roberto purred. “Just admit it. You were in love with me. It’s all your fault.”

Pique looked up, his eyes wide with questioning. Alexis blinked, not sure what he was seeing. He had never known Pique to be anything other than confident and cocky, yet here he was looking like a confused child needing reassurance.

“What do you mean?” he asked in a small voice.

“If it wasn’t for you, practically begging me to fuck you, making it so damn easy for me, then I never would have touched anyone else. You were the first one Geri. You showed me just how easy it could be. Thank you, very much.”

Pique stepped back, the colour draining completely from his face. “No,” he whispered. It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t have been the first one he did it with. Everything that happened to Jesus, that couldn’t be because he showed Roberto how to get away with it.

He tried to step back again, but his legs crumpled and he fell to the ground, sitting heavily and staring at the wall.

“Geri,” Cesc said, his voice strained. He leant forward, but he didn’t want to leave Jesus, even if his shuddering sobs had suddenly dried up.

Silva came forward then, closely followed by Bojan, and they crouched either side of Jesus, pressing close. They could see his jeans were still undone, his t-shirt ripped. Cesc flashed then a thankful glance and moved to Pique quickly, kneeling beside him.

“Geri, it’s not your fault,” he whispered. “He’s just trying to hurt you.”

Pique still didn’t look up.

A police siren sounded somewhere close by, making most of the boys almost smile in relief. A few were still too distracted to even really hear it.

Cesc reached up to cup Pique’s cheek, trying to turn his face towards him. “I promise, even if it’s true it’s not your fault. You were only thirteen, you didn’t know this was what would happen.”

“He knew exactly what he wanted though,” said Roberto, leering down at them. “He was much easier then Jesus. Much more willing and less whiney.”

Cesc stood quickly, marching over to Roberto. He could feel all the anger that had built up in him over the years, suddenly rushing out of him in a torrent. As soon as he was close enough he lifted his knee, ramming it into Roberto’s crotch as hard as he could. Pique looked up then, as the grown man roared in pain and crumpled against the wall. He was still gasping for breath when the police burst in, Cristiano showing them where to go.

It seemed like it took hours to get all of the interviews done, the boys being taken into a side room to explain their version of events one at a time. The only exception was made for Jesus, who refused to talk alone. Pique sat with him, rocking him gently as he spoke through his tears. It took a long time and Pique was exhausted, but he still had his own interview to go. Outside the room, he passed Jesus over to Sergio, who had already been talked to and let him take him upstairs.

“Try and get him to sleep,” he said.

Sergio nodded and pulled him under his arm, half carrying the boy up to his bed. Alexis watched them go.

“Hey,” Pique called over to him, making him start. He walked over quickly, knowing the policewoman was still waiting to talk to him.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said, without smiling. “It helped.”

“No problem,” said Alexis quietly, sounding a little caught off guard, He had never expected Pique would thank him for anything.

The other boy just nodded and said nothing else, heading back the room he had just come out of. Alexis watched him for a second and shook his head, before going to find Silva.

The boy in question was sitting on the staircase. Cristiano was his designated driver for the night and he was still talking to the police, so he would just have to wait. Villa sat beside him quietly, offering him a glass of water.

“Thanks,” he said, taking it without looking.

The other boy was quiet for a few moments, looking down at his feet. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

Silva sighed. He had known this was coming. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It just came out.” Villa reached for him, sitting closer and stroking warm circles on his back. He knew Silva would always weaken to physical affection. “I’m really sorry.”

Slowly, the boy sank against him.

“It seems stupid after what happened to Jesus and Pique,” he whispered so quietly that Villa had to listen hard to hear it.

“Yeah,” he agreed, not knowing what else to say. He kissed his boyfriend’s head.

“Are you two ready to go?”

They looked up to see Cristiano, looking tired and massaging his neck.

Villa got up stiffly, helping Silva up too.

“Villa?” the other boy asked quietly. “Am I still staying at yours tonight?”

“Of course, if you want to.” His heart gave a little jump of excitement. He had thought Silva wouldn’t want to be close to him at all for days, and after what had happened he really needed him to be.

Silva didn’t smile, but he did nod, leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Alexis watched them go, shaking his head. He was too tired to chase after them and try to talk some sense into his friend. Whatever spell Villa had him under, he could stay under it. If he was too stupid to see what was happening, then he obviously wasn’t the person Alexis had thought he was. He pulled his phone out and called a taxi. Hopefully Bojan and Cesc would be ready soon and they could go home with him. Better yet, they could distract him from thinking about Silva and Jesus – He hoped.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter!  
> And the introduction of a new character!

Sergio had slept badly. Between Jesus moving around constantly and his own worries about the boy even when he was quiet, he had found it very hard to relax. It was early when he woke up, but there was really no point in trying to go back to sleep. After a while he became aware that Jesus was awake too, his eyelids slowly opening to reveal his faded blue eyes. He tried to give him a little smile, but Jesus just pressed his face against his shoulder and looked down.

A few long, silent minutes stretched out before the young boy gave a little sigh, his body lifting and sinking as he did so. His hand crept up Sergio’s chest. It felt like it was shaking just a little, but before Sergio was sure he even felt it, a leg slid up and over his waist. Slowly, Jesus moved on top of him, straddling his waist, his hands on his shoulders. Their touch was very light, in contrast to the dull, heavy weight of his hips. He looked tiny perched there.

Sergio opened his mouth and took in a little breath to speak, but no words came. His lips were still parted as Jesus leaned down, his body trembling as he did so. If Sergio had been able to look anywhere but his face, he would have noticed the goosebumps jumping up all over his skin.

He was still shaking when their lips met. His eyes didn’t even fully close, just fluttered a little before he edged back, giving Sergio’s mouth a sleepy look.

“Jesus,” Sergio whispered, his brain disconnected from the word, still trying to catch up with what had just happened.

Jesus kissed him again, not wanting him to talk anymore. Gently, he slid to the side, their mouths still together, Sergio turning automatically with him. One leg still hooked over his hips, he pulled back enough to give what he hoped was a sexy look, his fingers trailing through Sergio’s bed hair.

“You can have me,” he said, “if you want.”

Sergio blinked, as if suddenly coming to his senses. “No,” he exclaimed, pulling back and leaving Jesus very small and crumpled in the bed sheets. “I’m sorry, no.”

He turned and sat on the edge of the bed, his face covered with his hands. The boy had been attacked last night, he had been raped the other week, and here he was offering his poor little body to him in such a barefaced way - It was wrong.

Behind him, he heard the blankets rustle as Jesus sat up, pulling the covers around him. He shuffled closer.

“W-why not?” he asked, kneeling up. “I thought it’s what you wanted.”

Sergio turned at that, his face a mask of horror. “Why would you think that?”

Jesus looked genuinely confused. “Well, you brought me to bed...”

“To sleep.” Sergio turned quickly to face him. “I mean, after what happened I was just trying to help you.”

Crawling forward, Jesus tried to climb on his lap again, Sergio holding him gently back without realising.

“I just want to get it over with,” Jesus said quietly. He tried to nuzzle Sergio’s neck. “You can do whatever you want.”

He knew he was sounding desperate and his legs were shaking horribly, but that was how most of his sexual experiences had started, so he kept trying.

“No,” Sergio repeated, this time jumping up off the bed and out of the other boy’s reach. “Jesus this is wrong. I can’t do it.”

“You don’t want me?” Jesus mumbled, sounding confused.

Sergio sighed, running his hands through his hair. It was too early for this kind of thing. “No, I didn’t mean that...Wait, Jesus.”

The boy was already scrambling to the other side of the bed and racing for the door. Sergio didn’t even have time to move before he was gone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Rubbing his eyes sleepily, Thierry shuffled across the empty bed and dragged the bedside clock towards him. The little neon lights made him squint. Two-thirty? Why the hell wasn’t Bojan in bed at two-thirty? He could see the bathroom door wide open from where he was so he certainly wasn’t in there. This was their first night together since they had made love. Why would he be out of bed?

Grumpily, Thierry got up, pulling on a sweater to block out the cold. He quietly checked the kitchen, hoping Bojan had maybe just went for a drink, but it was as empty and silent as the boy’s side of the bed had been.

He found him curled up in the corner of the couch, his legs pulled up to his chest. There were no lights on, no TV, just Bojan, looking blankly into the darkness. He gave a little start and looked up when the door opened.

“What are you doing in here?” Thierry asked, coming to sit beside him. The boy had complained he was tired when he had arrived earlier and they had retired to bed sooner than usual. Thierry would have expected him to have slept soundly until morning.

“Sorry,” said Bojan, taking his feet off the couch and returning them to the floor, His hands folded in his lap, shoulders hunched against the cold. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Is something wrong?” Thierry’s hand was warm as it stroked circles on his back, and he could see the boy swaying a little with his movements, his eyes falling shut. He suddenly gave an abrupt sniff.

“Bojan, what’s wrong?”

He shuddered then, trying to contain a sob. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled.

The words were barely out before Thierry was wrapping him in his warm embrace, letting him bury his face against his chest.

“Tell me,” he said gently. “I’ve hardly seen you in weeks. I don’t want you to be upset.”

He felt Bojan rub his face against his sweater, drying some of his tears.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Thierry cupped his face with one hand and eased him back, so he could look at him properly. He was trying not to let his heart beat too hard, knowing that at leats one of them should stay in control.

“What do you mean?”

“I – I wasn’t ready,” said Bojan, looking down. More tears collected on his eyelashes, dropping suddenly as he blinked. “I thought I was, but it all happened so fast and then afterwards it just felt like it was so much and like everything was different and then I’ve been avoiding you so I didn’t have to do it and feel weird again.”

He gulped down a breath when he finally finished. It all sounded so stupid now it was out in the open.

Thierry cradled him close again, one hand around his waist, the other cupping the back of his head. Bojan snuggled his face against the man’s shoulder, sensing his familiar warmth all around him. The sweater smelt of him, and it did much to soothe Bojan’s continuing tears.

“Oh, baby,” Thierry whispered, rocking him gently. “It’s ok. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m sorry I rushed you.”

Bojan shook his head. “You didn’t rush me,” he answered, his voice sounding thick. “I just didn’t expect it to feel like that afterwards. When I went to school the next day, and everything else was back to normal, it felt like I had this huge secret that I couldn’t tell anyone. Like everything was different somehow but nobody else knew it.”

Thierry nuzzled his cold nose against Bojan’s hair. “Shh,” he soothed, “It’s ok. We don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Bojan pulled back a little, shivering and giving a little nod. “Promise?”

“I promise.” He rubbed his thumb over Bojan’s sharp cheekbone. “I love you.”

A smile crept over Bojan’s face and he ducked his head, trying not to let Thierry see it. “Love you too,” he mumbled.

He let Thierry kiss his forehead before looking up again. He thought for a second about telling him what had happened the night before at Pique’s party, about Roberto and Jesus, but he held his tongue for some reason. It just didn’t feel right to tell Thierry, not yet. Not when Bojan kept having the niggling doubt that maybe this was how Roberto had treated Jesus and Pique once upon a time, before everything fell apart.

He took a deep breath and pushed a smile onto his face. “I’m tired,” he said.

Thierry’s concerned expression softened and he smiled down at him. “Then let’s get you back to bed, ok?”

Wrapping his arms around Bojan’s waist he practically lifted him off the couch and tucked him back into bed, where he was relieved to see a little smile curl the corners of his mouth at the boy finally fell back to sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was Wednesday by the time Sergio had worked up the courage to go and see Jesus. Both he and Pique were taking time off school to deal with what was going on and to recover, so bar a few calls to Pique, Sergio had very little contact with them. But Wednesday afternoon, he finally decided he would drive over and see them. He really needed to explain things to Jesus, after all.

To his surprise, there was no answer when he rang the doorbell, so he retreated back to his car, parked further down the street. He had been sat in the front seat for a while, debating whether to call Pique – maybe they were at the police station or something – when he happened to look up and see a familiar figure crossing the street and turning the corner.

Sergio furrowed his brow. Where would Jesus be going alone? Especially so quickly and so often glancing over his shoulder, like he was worried he would be followed. Quietly, Sergio turned the engine back on and crept his car down the street, careful to leave enough distance so that Jesus wouldn’t notice him. It wasn’t long before he saw the boy waiting at a bus stop.

It was already getting late. Sergio had put off visiting until after he had eaten, done his homework and even walked the dog, too nervous about what to say to rush there straight after school. He watched carefully as a bus came around the corner, noting as it passed him which service it was and where it would be going. Jesus got on with one last glance over his shoulder, and Sergio started to drive again.

It was a while before the bus stopped to let Jesus off again and Sergio wasn’t much liking the neighbourhood they had ended up in. He kept driving, making a note of the street Jesus had disappeared down. He parked somewhere that looked half safe and sent out a little prayer that no one would break into it while he was gone. Then he backtracked quickly to where he had last seen the boy and set off after him. His long legs caught him up quickly, but he still kept back, curiosity taking over from concern.

Waiting around a corner, he eventually lost track of Jesus and it was only then that he started to panic a little. He wasn’t used to this part of town and with good reason. So far he hadn’t spotted anyone else, which he was very glad of, but sooner or later he would come across a pimp or a prostitute or maybe even a drug dealer, and if any spotted how expensive his clothes were then he might just be in a lot of trouble. Carefully, he rolled his sleeves down to cover the watch he had gotten for Christmas. The people in this part of town would do a lot of things for a watch like that and he wasn’t ready to part with it just yet.

Cautiously, he crept through the back streets, the sun setting and casting the alleys in deep shadow. Silently, he cursed Jesus for coming to this part of town. He had no idea how he even knew about it. And why would he be here? Drugs? A prostitute? Why else would someone come to this part of town? Unless maybe he was lost. Sergio crossed his fingers and hoped the last option was the right one.

Without him even noticing, a person stepped forward out of the shadows. He started a little at the sudden movement, but when he saw the boy’s youthful face, although it seemed covered in dirt, and his skinny frame, he relaxed again.

“You looking for some fun?” the boy asked, his dark, brown eyes, flicking to Sergio’s face before looking away, like he was more nervous than his tone let on.

“I’m looking for someone,” he said.

The boy came forward again and Sergio tensed, preparing himself in case he made a grab for his wallet.

“I can be someone,” he said, trying to invade Sergio’s personal space in a more intimate way.

“No,” said Sergio, taking a step back. “I mean someone specific. I saw him come down here but he shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” The teen had put his hands in his pockets now, realising he wasn’t going to make a sale.

“He’s just a kid,” said Sergio. “He doesn’t need to be here, he’s just going through a lot right now. Look, I can’t stay here and talk. I have to find him.”

He moved past the other boy, giving him a wide enough berth to protect his expensive possessions, and kept going.

“I can help you look for him,” said the boy.

Sergio looked over his shoulder, looking at the boy properly for the first time. He was standing with his weight mostly on one foot, his dirty blonde hair hanging in his eyes and giving him an even more childlike appearance. He picked at one nail nervously.

“Ok,” said Sergio. He wasn’t sure why he had said it, but if it came down to it he was physically stronger than this tall, skinny kid any day and he doubted he could run very fast. He probably couldn’t cause that much trouble. And Sergio would be happy of the company anyway.

Smiling, the boy scurried forward into the light of the streetlamp Sergio was already under. Up close he could see that the dirt on his face was in fact a mass of freckles.

“I’m Fernando,” said the boy, giving him another shaky smile.

“Sergio.”

“And your friend’s name?”

“Jesus. He’s about this high,” said Sergio, holding his hand out to indicate where Jesus reached up to on his body. “And he’s got really dark hair, blue eyes.”

“Oh, I saw him a little while ago,” said Fernando, his eyes seeming to light up. Sergio smiled back, half in relief and half just for seeing a bit more life in the poor boy in front of him.

“He went this way.” Fernando started all but scampering off down the street, Sergio’s long legs keeping pace with him easily.

They talked a little as they went, Fernando asking questions and shifting nervously in the awkward silences. Sergio told him what he felt he could about Jesus, mostly blurring the details of what a hard time he had had lately.

“Everyone round here has had a hard time,” said Fernando, shrugging his shoulders but looking away. “Probably why he came. This is where everyone comes when they get messed up.”

Sergio didn’t like the sound of that. Of course Jesus had problems, but after what happened to him recently, would he really want to be involved in a place like this? Then again, Sergio had never expected him to do what he had done that previous weekend when they had woken up together either.

Turning into another street, Sergio suddenly stopped. Not far away, he could definitely see Jesus, looking down at his feet, hands visibly shaking even from a distance, as a man loomed over him, taking money out of his pocket.

“Hey!” Sergio shouted, racing forward. “Leave him alone.”

He caught the man by surprise, pushing him away and blocking his view of Jesus.

“Sergio!” the younger boy exclaimed. “Go away. What are you doing here?” He tried to push past but Sergio refused to move.

“You leave him the fuck alone, you pervert,” he told the rather ashamed looking man, who happily rushed off back to his car and drove away with a screech of tyres.

“What did you do that for?” Jesus said angrily.

Turning to face him, Sergio gripped his upper arms tight enough to make him gasp.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he shouted, giving him a little shake. “This place is dangerous. You can’t just whore yourself to any dirty old man who’ll have you.”

“Why not?” Jesus screamed back in his face, and it was the loudest Sergio had ever heard him. “You heard what he said, I’m damaged goods. You don’t want me. Pique doesn’t want me. It doesn’t make any fucking difference who I sleep with. At least this way I’ll make a little money.”

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you?” He refused to let go as the boy squirmed in his grip. “You don’t need money. This isn’t a game.”

“Get off me.”

“No. You’re coming home with me.”

He started to drag the boy along by one arm, ignoring his protests. Fernando followed nervously along beside them, eyes darting all over the darkened streets.

“C-can you try to be quiet, please?” he asked Jesus, clearly nervous. “There’s people around here that won’t react very well to all this.”

“I don’t care,” said Jesus petulantly, although his voice did drop a few octaves. Sergio noted that it still seemed loud enough to put Fernando’s nerves on edge.

“Be quiet,” he hissed. “We don’t want any more trouble here.”

Jesus stumbled then, yelping loudly as Sergio held him up by his arm.

“Fuck, that hurt,” he shouted, forgetting Fernando’s warning. “Let go of me. I don’t want to go with you.”

“Well tough, you are.”

From there Jesus clamped his mouth shut, glaring at the ground as Sergio pulled him along. They got back to his car quickly, with Fernando’s help to find the nearest main street, and he pushed Jesus into the back.

“Thanks for helping me find him,” said Sergio, turning back to Fernando and trying to give him a genuine smile.

“N-no problem.” Fernando’s shoulders were shaking now, though out of nerves or the cold, Sergio couldn’t tell.

“Look,” he said, pulling out his wallet. “Take this.” He handed over a pile of notes, pushing them into Fernando’s ice cold hand.

“Really?” The boy’s mouth fell open, his eyes wide in surprised gratitude.

“For helping me find him,” Sergio explained.

“But I barely did anything,” he said.

“That doesn’t matter,” said Sergio. “Just take it.”  
Fernando nodded, squeezing the money tightly, as if to check it was real, before putting it in his pocket. His eyes shone wetly in the street light as Sergio turned to open the car door. He got in awkwardly, trying to turn at the same time and look at Jesus in the back. The boy refused to look back, his arms folded and his bottom lip shaking. With a sigh, Sergio turned back to face the wheel again. He gave one last glance at Fernando and started to drive away, but he couldn’t help looking over at the receding figure of Fernando in his rear-view mirror.

He stopped, making Jesus look up curiously, forgetting for a second his own bad mood.

Winding down the driver side window, Sergio stuck his head out and called back to Fernando, “Do you want to come with us?”

“Huh?” the blonde answered dumbly. “W-why?”

Sergio sighed, as if frustrated with himself. “Because I can’t just leave you here,” he said. “I’ll feel guilty, especially after you were so nice and helped us. Can you please just get in?”

Fernando blinked, rooted to the spot. And then suddenly his brain kicked in and he realised he was maybe, just maybe, getting the chance he had been hoping for. He hurried forward, pulling open the door and clambering into the backseat.

“Thank you,” he said, sounding more grateful than Sergio had ever heard.

He gave him a smile, a real one despite the tension he could still feel knotted in his stomach. Facing forward again, he drove away, getting them all out of the bad part of town as quickly as he could.


End file.
